


Lunacy

by Luckyfirerabbit



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyfirerabbit/pseuds/Luckyfirerabbit
Summary: (Paranormal AU) Lunacy is what you call it when a human thinks falling in love with a supernatural is a good idea.





	1. Chapter 1

"You're sure it's not too tight?" Jaune asks, kneeling in front of her.

"It's fine, I promise."

His brow pulls a little tighter, still showing worry as he works the clasp of the belt together. He slips two fingers under the leather collar, trying to assure himself more than her that it's snug but safe. He does the same to the thick and heavy straps looping beneath her arms to keep her neck from taking all the strain.

Pyrrha meets his eyes, smiling gently. "It's okay." she repeats.

He nods, breaking eye contact as he reaches down for the heavy steel chain beside him. He threads the end of it through a metal loop on the side of the collar, then through one in the back, and then through a final one on the other side and pulls the length of metal until it pops taught. His hands shake a little as he picks up a heavy padlock -the heaviest he could find- and stands, pulling the free end of the chain to a metal loop secured to the concrete floor. He secures the two, the padlock closing with a loud snap.

"Did I pull it too short?"

Pyrrha tests it, making sure she can straighten her back as she sits on the floor. "It's all right." and she nods, the chain rattling a little.

He nods as well, slowly with a puff of an exhale. "Ready for the harness?"

Pyrrha just smiles, trying to show the confidence and trust she knows he needs. She wants to talk to him, make some sort of conversation to distract him but knows it won't work. He's too focused on his task now, too worried. So she just watches him, makes eye contact at every opportunity as he finagles with more leather and steel and moves behind her, kneeling again. A steel bracket lines up with her spine and a clasp closes around the ring at the back of the collar. Then she lets him take her hands one at a time and carefully bend her arms behind her back after cinching a solid and heavy belt around her waist. He fits her fists into the crook her elbows, forearms crossed, before closing metal cuffs around them to keep them there. This is easily the second most uncomfortable part of this strange ritual of theirs, her minor discomfort punctuated with the snap of more padlocks.

"You okay?" he asks again.

"I'm fine." she assures him after a stabilizing breath. Heat is starting to simmer under her skin, an itch scattering across her nerve endings and making the small hairs across her body bristle.

"Squeeze my hand."

She smiles a little wider at the feeling his heated palm against hers, and she hopes her tight grip encourages him. "What time is it?"

"We've got a few minutes yet." is all he says as he stands up again.

Pyrrha tries to focus on his footsteps instead of the rattling of more chains, on his heartbeat that is becoming louder and louder in her steadily more sensitive ears instead of the minor throbbing in her mouth, around her canines.

Jaune knows this is what she wants, but it's still difficult to do. He knows it keeps them both from consequences they'll regret, but that doesn't make him like the look of her in chains any more than usual. Which is to say he doesn't like it at all.

 _It makes her feel safe, secure, it keeps her happy. And it keeps her_ here _. It's what you both want._

And it's all true, but he still doesn't like doing this to her every month. She deserves better.

"Jaune?"

He shakes his head, snapping out of his own thoughts. "Sorry." He threads a collection of chains through the trio of heavy gauge rings anchored to the leather belt, padlocking them into place like all the others. He hurries, hearing her breathing starting to pitch, becoming almost feverish.

"You want your blanket?"

"Please."

He fetches the neatly folded crimson and gold afghan, unfurling it as he walks back to her. He drapes it across her bare shoulders, working it under and over the chains so it sits snugly to her naked body. He swallows quietly, seeing evidence of the impending change in her eyes now. The green of her irises is more intense, like a sun-struck gemstone instead of four leaf clovers. When she tries to smile he notices the edge her eye-teeth have taken on. A fine sheen of sweat dapples her forehead and an uncomfortable redness has risen up into her freckled cheeks.

"Can...is there anything else I can do?"

She can't help but focus on his throat, on the pulse point she can not only see but _feel_.

"Pyrrha?"

"Hm? Sorry," she laughs softly, then tries to hide a wince with a sharp tuck of her chin towards her chest. The muscles in her jaw clench reflexively. "I'm okay. Just lock the door."

Jaune thinks to smile but can't. He wants to touch her but knows he shouldn't, too much temptation for her to bite him. He wants to kiss her, too, but that's not a good idea either. Won't be until morning. Instead he whispers "I love you" as he stands up, finding a little comfort when she whispers back, though her voice is cracking with the makings of a growl now.

Jaune had designed the cage and the door himself, making use of his trade as an iron worker. It took him months to fully flesh out the plans for the room itself, the door for the cage alone took almost eight weeks to conceptualize and build. The floor and walls are made up from reinforced concrete, iron bars working up through the masonry and anchored several feet into the cement floor. Same with the heavy iron bars of the cage that reach below the foundation of the basement and into solid earth under the house. But the door is somewhat of a marvel even to himself.

It swings with a heavy, metallic cry and settles flush into a frame that won't allow it to go passed the profile of the bars, nestled into an iron bracket. He folds slitted braces on hinges over the door, effectively immobilizing it as they close over more metal loops welded into the door itself. Half a dozen more padlocks are closed around the loops; he pulls the bolts out of the hinges and replaces them with thick, t-shaped stakes that will keep the door from pushing open even if the locks are broken.

For a moment he props himself against the door, looking through the bars at her longingly. She tries to meet his gaze, but her muscles are starting to spasm in their telling way. It's only minutes to midnight. Jaune shuffles a few feet away from the cage, offering one last needy glance before turning away. He knows she doesn't want him to watch, to see her like that, but he also knows she doesn't want to be alone through it. Though it kills him to hear her suffer -he would bet money that she does no matter how much she says she doesn't- he sits in the middle of the floor and waits.

The growling starts in earnest and Jaune can feel his body tensing. It doesn't scare him, not by a long shot, but it gives him nauseous goosebumps all over. Always has. The growling is punctuated with chesty grunts and a sharp rattle of anchored steel. The first time he sat through this he hadn't been able to focus on anything but her heavy, frantic breathing - _that_ had scared him more than anything. He was mortified that maybe the collar was too tight or the harness was impeding her ability to draw breath that he had almost gone into the cage only to have her scream at him and demand he stay on the other side of the bars with glowing green eyes and a mouth full of fangs.

Jaune props his elbows on his knees, pressing his folded hands to his mouth and screwing his eyes shut when she starts fighting the urge to scream. He can hear it, her bones starting to come apart and snap back together, the distinct pop of ribs pulling away from cartilage and her jaw unhinging. The pounding of resistance of chains against their moorings it almost too loud now.

_Don't look, she's fine. You know she's fine and you would know if she wasn't. Just don't look._

Jaune checks his watch, counting the last few seconds to the chime of the hour, and it goes quiet after it beeps. He swallows, taking a deep breath as he stands up, and then turns around.

She's strangely beautiful like this, like a wild animal in its natural habitat is beautiful. Though he cringes a little at the thought; she doesn't belong in a cage. What he would give to let her run, but that isn't what she wants.

 _I hate waking up in strange places_ . Her voice echoes in his head as he looks her in the eyes, solid green eyes with pitch black irises that expand and contract to focus on him. _I hate waking up feeling lost and confused. I know I'm safe here. I'm not alone._ He can't help but stare, taking in the lush looking, dark red fur that covers her body, distracted by the large triangles of her ears turning this way and that on the sides of her head. He can't see it, but he can hear her tail sliding against the concrete.

She's quiet, more quiet than usual. For a moment Jaune thinks maybe it's getting better; Pyrrha said the change wouldn't be so hard on her as she gets older. One day she would be able to control it -God, he can't wait for that, but not for the obvious reasons- but when that initial serenity passes into a riot of wildly snapping jaws and straining, steel trap muscles, the thought scatters.

"I'll see you in the morning." he tries, unsure of whether or not she can understand. Jaune has to force himself to leave, knowing there is nothing more he can to do comfort her. His presence would only agitate her. He feels some of the weight fall from his shoulders when he closes the door -a heavy metal thing that should be on a bank vault and not in a basement- behind himself, turning the mechanism to slide three steel bars into place. He exhales, deflating as he thumps his way up the stairs.

Jaune comes back into the main house greeted by the warm, soothing aroma of tea from the kitchen. Pushing his fingers across his scalp he shuffles through the den, following the smell to a chair at the table where he deposits himself. Everything in here is so wonderfully warm, the colors, the air, the subtle yellow of the lights is such a stark contrast to the desolation of the basement. Jaune's quiet for a moment, rubbing his face with his palms before silently watching Ren move about the space with graceful purpose. Jaune marvels at him, provoking a regularly occurring thought to pass over his mind.

_How do these creatures keep finding their way into my house?_

But there is no disdain or disgust, just wonder. Of all people, these things kept happening to _him._ Was he some kind of magnet?

Ren had been the first to arrive and evidence of his presence had started in his flowerbeds. Jaune hadn't been able to make more than vegetables grow in the plots behind the house, but flowers the likes of which he had never even _heard_ of started coming in at the advent of Spring three years ago. And all year long his plants yielded fruit and blossoms. But he hadn't the slightest clue as to Ren's presence until he left the house earlier than usual and caught a flash of something green and gilded along the tree line at the boundaries of his property. At first he thought it was just a trick of the sleep in his eyes, then he caught Ren -as an emerald and black and pink scaled Kirin- standing in his back yard a day or so later. Ren chose to show himself after realizing Jaune had taken such good care of the flowers, using his behavior as a gauge of whether or not he could keep his presence a secret.

Nora, who currently wasn't home, came shortly after. Elementals, Jaune quickly learned, have a tendency to follow magical creatures around, and Nora and Ren had been traveling together for more than a century. There were multiple reasons why they chose to show themselves to _him_ and no one else, the paramount one being that he lived alone and was relatively isolated from the other people in town. It was easier for them to hide. Jaune didn't ask for much more explanation than that, he liked the company. And Ren was a hell of a cook.

When Pyrrha came into his life it reminded him of his mother always saying _everything comes in threes_ . Albeit briefly. He had been so convinced in the beginning that she was human, but I guess that's why she was able to live among humans so easily. She could sell normalcy with the best of them. Nothing had seemed out of ordinary when they started seeing each other; sure, she had always been insistent on going home at a particular time _every night_ , not just during the full moon's cycle, but he had written it off as personal preference. Same thing when he got the guts to ask her out to dinner and she ordered her steak blue-rare. Just personal preference, he thought. When she went a few days without seeing or calling him, he was convinced she was either busy or -like the few other girls he had been with- had lost interest. But then she sat him down and told him the truth, told him she had been born a werewolf.

A confession he took incredibly well. He could still remember the look on her face when he didn't panic and chase her out of the house. Doubly so when he presented her the plans for the "renovations" to his basement so she could stay with him if she wanted.

"How is she?"

Jaune's brows lift at the soft sound of Ren's voice. He didn't talk much, but when he did, Jaune always heard him.

"She's okay." he nods, taking a cup of tea when Ren offers. "Okay as she can be, I guess."

"Good." a little nod.

"Where's Nora?"

"Out." is all he says, expecting Jaune to understand. Which he doesn't, but he accepts it anyway. Elementals do their own thing, have their own business, and it wasn't his to pry in. Maybe it had something to do with the storm he heard about on the news.

Jaune just nods, taking a sip, feeling a little shock of static as it settles in his stomach. He smiles, quietly amused. Ren could be very empathetic, keen to anyone's needs and desires so long as he was physically close enough to them. Ren knew Jaune would want to stay awake for Pyrrha.

"You want to watch a movie or something?" Jaune asks.

"Perhaps in a minute, I'm baking." Ren nods absently, bending down to look through the small window in the oven door.

Jaune just nods and nurses his tea.

Within the next hour the two of them would be slumped on the sofa with Ren in control of the remote. Jaune didn't mind even if all the Kirin ever wanted to watch were historical and travel documentaries. It isn't so bad, Jaune liked to listen to him talk about the subject matter, having been to most of these places at least once in his long life, and going on in passing about the numerous lives he lived. Jaune can't help but wonder if Ren was ever lonely, ever burdened with having to reinvent himself every few decades to keep his cover. To Ren it had been a simple matter of disappearing for a few years, easy enough for a creature such as himself, especially after people stopped believing his kind existed.

Kirin had been worshiped once. Then they were hunted. After that, forgotten.

Half way through the night the house shakes, accompanying a bright flash of light and a tearing rumble in the air from the back yard. The hinges on the back door squeal as it opens and closes. Nora strides into the living room, soaking wet and stark naked, arms stretching over her head as she yawns.

Ren twists at the waist to look over the back of the couch. "You didn't land in my hibiscus again, did you?"

"Of _course_ I didn't." Nora smiles before shaking herself, droplets of water scattering from her short red hair. "But,"

One sable brow spikes. "But?"

Nora cringes, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish laugh. "...I hit the apple tree."

Ren's face hits the cushion with a puff of air. "It was sixty years old." he groans a little. Then he pushes himself to stand up, shoulders looking heavy.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she tries, apologetic.

"It's fine. I'll take care of it."

Nora watches him leave the way she had come in, and for a moment she just stands there behind the sofa and pouts.

"There's dry clothes in your room." Jaune says, having stayed in his seat, refusing to turn his head.

That seemed to brighten her mood as she musses his hair, leaving it half standing with her own natural static. She bounds up the stairs, bare feet squeaking across finished hardwood. "Thanks for washing my favorite jammies!" she calls down to him.

"You're welcome." he offers up simply, smiling to himself. A smile that widens a little when he hears her come down the stairs and then feels her vault over the back of the sofa to plop down on the cushion beside him. She snatches up the remote and starts flipping through the channels, sometimes changing two at a time as her affinity shorted out the device.

"How's Pyrrha?" she asks in passing but with genuine concern.

"It's been quiet, so I think she's fine." he nods.

"You want me to go check?"

"No." if anyone was going in there while she was under the change it was going to be _him_ , never mind that Nora couldn't be infected. "It's all right."

"Okay."

They sit quietly until Ren comes back inside, looking more pleased than when he left. Perhaps he'd been able to salvage the tree. He'll join them on the couch with a plate of pastries from the oven, only to have Nora jump up from her seat to fetch a glass of milk. The three of them spend the rest of the night together like this, only arguing once over what to watch.

 

When the world outside the windows starts to gray with the approach of dawn, Jaune pushes himself off the couch and starts moving about the house, busying himself with little preparations. He starts upstairs in the bedroom, making the bed and setting out his work clothes for later. After putting a few more somewhat-essentials out on his nightstand he heads back downstairs and into the kitchen. He manages an armload of items onto the counter from the refrigerator; eggs, cheese, bacon, potatoes, whatever he can think of with high amounts of protein and starch, two things Pyrrha was going to need in ample portions to recover. But he doesn't start cooking. In fact he won't. He knows Ren prefers to do it; the Kirin likes to do what he can to take care of her too. For a being who has never sired offspring, Ren could be unusually paternal.

Jaune returns upstairs when the sky starts brightening, grabbing a satin top sheet from the hall closet before going back into the living room and turns a corner to start down into the basement. It's almost time, his hand starting to itch with the desire to grab the ring of keys waiting by the heavy vault-style door. When his watch chimes the hour he does just that, turning the wheel to pull the iron bolts back. An easy exhale leaves him when he sees her, glad to catch her in the last throws of the transformation. He never liked the idea of her having to wait for him, still in restraints.

Sweat pours over her flushed skin, dripping from her nose and chin now that the fur has ungrown and can no longer draw it away. Her breaths are deep, rhythmic, stabilizing as her mind comes back together. Pyrrha shivers with fatigue and the oncoming chill of concrete beneath her, her core temperature dropping back to normal levels. Everything is starting to feel heavy, her skin suddenly so tender and her muscles taxed to their limit. She swallows the urge to jerk against the chains, the remnants of her primal instincts tugging at her. She blows at the stray strands of hair in her face.

"Good morning," Jaune greets softly, his quiet anxiety ebbing when Pyrrha smiles at him in spite of the sight of her fangs.

"Morning." she responds, sounding hoarse.

The keys in his hand jingle brightly as he sorts through them, starting on the padlocks on the door. "Are you okay?"

She nods initially, but then acknowledges the bitterness in her mouth that wasn't there before. "I think I bit my tongue."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't think so." she giggles a little. "Maybe you should take a closer look."

"I'm sure you'd love that." he grins back through the bars.

She would, actually. Something about his fingers near her mouth got her going, kissing his palms is one of her favorite things to do. Maybe she's just hungry.

The harness doesn't feel so cumbersome when she watches him step into the cage. She eyes the satin sheet draped over his arm and can't wait to get it around her. Not just to inch away from the cold, but to feel something smooth against her overstimulated flesh, something other than leather and steel.

Jaune doesn't like how the restraints leave red and purple marks on her every time they do this. He knows damn good and well that he doesn't make them too tight, knows it's just from her pulling against them throughout the night, but he still doesn't like it. It makes his gut twist worse than when he has to put them on her in the first place. But he's _so_ happy to take them off. There isn't much else that brings him as much pleasure as undoing the padlocks and buckles.

Pyrrha pulls her hands around in front of her once they're free, rubbing her reddened wrists to help distract her from her own thinning patience. She's ready to be out of this cage, out of this room, she's ready to feel somewhat human again. Her smile is genuine when Jaune kneels in front of her, his hands moving to the buckle of her collar as she presents her neck. When it slides free she takes a cleansing breath. _Finally_. She takes his hands in both of hers and just holds on, mindful of her claws.

Jaune kisses her forehead. "Ren will have your breakfast ready soon. You want to get dressed?"

"No." she chuckles a little, a sound mixed with the clearing of her throat. Frankly, her skin feels a little too much like sandpaper right now. "I want a kiss."

He tilts his head, giving her a knowing look with hints of a restrained grin. "...You do remember it was _you_ who said we shouldn't, right?"

"I know what I said." she dips her chin, neck still bared, somewhat submissive. He's right. He's always right, and it's good of him to try and keep her to her word. "Please?"

"Just one." he says, lining her jaw with his hand, lifting her chin with a gentle pull of his finger. Her lips feel dry, chapped, but he doesn't care. He still loves her and this still feels like heaven. One kiss becomes one, two, three, he feels the heat stirring in his chest...and then jerks back when he feels the pressure of her teeth on his bottom lip. "Pyrrha," he breathes, wary.

"I'm sorry." she hates seeing the little fear in his eyes, but she just needed a taste of him, something to calm the growing hunger for something other than actual food. A werewolf has her needs. "You know I wouldn't bite you."

"Not intentionally, no, but," he doesn't have to finish, he can tell by the way her gaze breaks away from him that she knows what he's going to say. Jaune just shrugs, gripping her hand a little tighter. "Come on, lets get you upstairs."

Pyrrha loves the way he wraps her up so lovingly in satin and helps her climb the stairs even though she doesn't really need him to. She loves how his arm hangs so comfortably around her waist, a wonderful contrast to the countless months she had to spend alone, waking up in the woods or a secluded thicket in a park or even behind a dumpster. And she loves greeting Nora and Ren when she reaches the top of the stairs, though her heightened senses pull away from them briefly as she zeroes in on the aroma of food. She makes a face when Ren insists she dress before she eats, a scowl she means in fun and he takes as such.

"I've set out some clothes for you," Jaune says softly, guiding her up to the second floor.

Pyrrha feels a warm serenity wash over her as she steps into their room, her senses filled with _them_ , the sight of their belongings, their joined scent in the room, the familiar weight of the air. It reminds her where home is. It's _here_. It's with him.

Without a second thought she drops the satin sheet from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor behind her as she stands beside the bed, reaching for the folded shirt and shorts before her. She smiles at the bare essential choice of the clothes. She couldn't handle too much contact with something other than skin the first day after the change, and the sensitivity would pitch again tonight before she transformed again. The process and its gambit of wild sensations would repeat itself one last time tomorrow, the full moon having waned too far to affect her after that.

Out of respect Jaune tries not to watch her dress, but his gaze is drawn all the same. Not by her naked backside, but by the bright red abrasions across her skin, on her elbows and knees and shoulders. Flesh rubbed raw by her wild thrashing. They would be gone in an hour or so, but that didn't make them any easier for him to look at.

"Do you need anything?" the question is habitual, but no less sincere.

"Just you."

And he senses her intent as a steady simmer beneath his skin. Jaune knew her expectations, they were the same every month around this time. She expects to be well fed, bedded, and then left alone to enjoy a few hours of undisturbed, deep and regenerative sleep.

"Eat first."

"Party pooper." she giggles, pulling the thin cotton tank top over her head, partly amazed by her own flirtatious urge. "What's a quickie before breakfast?"

"Dangerous." he says frankly, unconsciously sounding too serious. It doesn't make him any less right. A hungry werewolf is a risky lover indeed. "And you _know_ a quickie doesn't do it for you during the full moon."

"Fair enough." she sighs, pulling the shorts up and working the button into place. Against her better judgment she strolls across the room to where he stands in the doorway and laces her hands together behind his head. Instead of lifting on the balls of her feet to kiss him, she lays her head on his shoulder, nostrils flaring as she inhales. "You smell good."

"Not as good as breakfast." he does his best to keep her focused. He knows what she's trying to do. "Come on." and he gently cuffs her forearms with his hands and tries to pry her loose. "Ren's making omelets. You _love omelets_ , right?"

"Almost as much as I love you." she purrs into his chest.

He starts walking backwards, carefully, one foot sliding after the other. "And while I'm flattered, I know that's your hunger talking. Come on," he encourages gently, still gripping her arms and starting to pull her. "Move your feet."

"Carry me." and she starts laughing half way through the lax command, her bare feet squeaking as they drag the floor.

"Oh, so you're too weak to walk but not for a quickie?" he tries not to laugh.

"That's because loving you is _easy_."

Her words ripple up his back in a warm shiver. They had talked about this before, how her needs would affect him too since he was her...whatever. He refrained from using the word mate, not entirely sure as to why. Maybe it just didn't...feel right. Mate sounded so permanent, and they weren't...not that he didn't want to... Still, her physiology was reacting to him and his in turn; by the time they finished with breakfast he would count himself lucky if he was able to get them back to the bedroom with any clothes on.

In a way they eventually compromise; Pyrrha tucks her entire body against him, looping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles, her face pushed into the crook of his neck. His only stipulation is that she minds her fangs as he carefully navigates down the stairs.

All thought in regards to the pursuit of Jaune's taught behind are completely lost the moment Pyrrha takes her seat at the table. Ren has to roll the omelet he made for her onto her plate, the mess of egg and meat and vegetables as thick as a man's arm. Pleasure pulls a full smile across the Kirin's face as she digs into it -he knows she'll eat it all, maybe even have room for a second judging by the way she's tearing it apart. Before she gets too far into it, he carefully navigates a frying pan over the table, pushing a healthy portion of fried potatoes onto her plate. He's still smiling as he serves the others.

Jaune is content, absently listening as Nora goes on about the storm she and several other of her kind had stirred up last night. He's more focused on Pyrrha. She shovels her food like she just can't eat fast enough, and he vaguely remembers when the behavior used to worry him, remembers how his mind simply couldn't wrap around the idea of a person needing to eat so much so quickly. He tries not to laugh when she clears her plate and eagerly but politely requests a second helping.

As he finishes his food his attention is pulled to a mug of tea that Ren sets in front of him as he finally sits down, but it isn't the tea he had earlier. That had been an amber color, this was a rich, almost blood red. He takes it without a hitch, offering a dip of his chin in thanks as he takes an initial mouthful. Cinnamon and cloves smooth over his tongue and fill his head, bringing heat to his skin and a tingle to his belly. This would help him make it through the next few hours with Pyrrha and still have enough strength and wherewithal to manage the rest of his day.

Nora's storytelling eventually devolves into a one-sided conversation with Ren, the Elemental looking sideways at the others as Pyrrha all but drags Jaune out of his chair towards the stairs. She watches them until they disappear into their room, the door shutting with force enough for the impact to echo through the house. She can't help but laugh a little to herself.

"They're kind of cute." she sighs, her cheek propped in her palm. "Don't you think?"

"I suppose." Ren nods, gathering his dishes to put in the sink. He wipes his hand on a towel and turns back to her. "Care to join me for a run?" And he doesn't mean the kind humans take to the sidewalk for, he means pulling aside his human disguise and bounding through the forest while the dew is still on the leaves.

The corner of her mouth twists, thinking. "Do I have to keep my clothes on?"

One sable brow lifts. "...No?"

"Then count me in." her smile is wide and toothy. "I was thinking about taking a nap, but I doubt it'll be quiet enough for that for a while." Now that she thinks about it, she quickly gulps down the last few bites, not of the mind to hear any of the racket that is bound to start coming from upstairs.

 

Jaune barely manages to push the door closed before Pyrrha shoves him against it, her chest lining up with his as her hands frame his face and hold him still. He allows her to kiss him for a moment, a small part of his mind policing the little details in the heated force of her lips to his to make sure he's ready to withdraw when she gets too eager. Once he feels the catching edge of one fang he grabs her wrists, pulling with no more force than is necessary to loose her grip. She's panting, eyes closed and chin tucked, her cheeks steadily reddening. His own quick breaths push through flared nostrils, her scent filling his head and working his heart into a faster cadence.

"Touch me," she rasps, trying to pull him to her again.

As much as he wants to, there are other things he needs to see to first. "Bed."

A growl rumbles out of her chest and vibrates through him and he catches the ivory gleam of her teeth in the light. He feels her fingers tighten against the sides of his neck, the tips of claws threatening at his hairline.

" _Bed_." he says again, firmer, carefully pulling on her arms until he can see both hands in front of him. Jaune straightens and encourages her to turn around, giving a little push with his palm to the swell of her butt to get her walking.

Staying close behind he stops her with both hands on her hips when she reaches the bed, her hips tucking against his. She laughs softly, turning to look over her shoulder. Jaune lines up their bodies again, his chest against her shoulders, leaning forward until she has to put her weight on her hands atop the bed. His arms cinch around her waist as he presses light kisses to the bend of her back, to the slope at the top of her shoulder.

"I like that." she sighs.

"I know." he smiles against her skin, feeling the bristle of goosebumps beneath his lips. He likes the way she shivers when his hands splay across the tops of her thighs, inching higher and higher until they start pulling up her shirt. He doesn't argue when she straightens and pulls the garment over her head and tosses it aside. He knows she needs this badly, has to have it if she wants to sleep and spare herself a hard night. But Jaune keeps her turned away from him, taking a moment to admire the fine musculature along her spine to the dimples at the small of her back.

Jaune moves to his nightstand, picking up a few of the items there, mentally flinching at the too familiar chime of metal rings, though these are decidedly smaller than the ones in the basement. When he comes to stand behind her again she is already waiting, having pulled her long red hair to the side. This collar is lighter than the other, though equally strong and made of thick leather with a padded fleece lining, a metal ring situated at the back. The parachute clip comes together in the back with a loud _snap_ , her reflexive flinch at the sound making him briefly anxious. When she inches her arms back a little, upper arms lifted, he continues without delay. Jaune had designed this one himself; half cuffs of padded leather with an outward situated ring fit over each bicep and a heavy nylon strap connects them across her back, tension forming from the natural pull of her arms trying for their natural position. He tightens the strap just a little, making sure her arms are snug to her sides without trying to force them behind her. Now he turns her to face him, finding an encouraging and comfortable smile as her eyes meet his. She presents her wrists, her smile growing as he puts the last of the restraints in place.

Jaune snatches her up behind her knees and braces her back, lifting her up and carefully, lovingly, placing her on the bed. He makes sure she's comfortable -receiving an assuring nod and a breathy giggle- before crossing her arms beneath her breasts and fixing the clasps on the cuffs around her wrists the to metal rings at her biceps. His meticulous preparations are complete when he fishes a stretch of metal links from beneath the pillows to fix to the back of her collar, anchoring her to the bed frame.

Pyrrha finds no arousal in being bound, never has, but it certainly doesn't take away from her pleasure. The snug leather makes her feel secure, strangely comforted. It's a sensation that reassures her that Jaune is safe from her less controllable urges, from accidentally being scratched or bitten. The confidence lets her relax, and _that_ allows her to better enjoy intimacy with him. Never mind how she loves to marvel at the focused devotion in his eyes as he prepares her for bed.

"I love you."

Jaune smiles again, breaking the too serious knit of his features. "Love you too. Are you okay?"

"Fine. Now would you touch me _please_?"

He laughs, his heated breaths ghosting across her stomach as he bends over her. He kisses above her navel, grinning at the flutter of the tight muscles there.

Jaune's heart is pounding now, his ribs jumping with each quick and heavy pulse. His instincts are screaming through his head, demanding indulgences he simply can't take. He wants to push between her legs and bring her to a wild climax with his lips and tongue, but a rumor of the condition being passed through such intimate touch during the full moon kept him from doing so. The last thing he wants is for Pyrrha to worry about possibly infecting him, to take away from what little pleasure she gleans from all this. He wants to _so badly_ , and he knows by the way she licks her lips and meets his eyes that she wants him to.

 _Once the full moon passes._ He tells himself. _Then_ he would give her everything he couldn't give her now.

Jaune fixes his focus on the other article of clothing she wears, working the button of her shorts open with one practiced twist of his fingers. He's strong enough to lift her hips and pull them down, dropping them to the floor without bothering to look where they land. Not too quickly he pulls his own shirt over his head, catching her eyes once he's free of it and feeling his own need swell at the desire he finds in her gaze. He pushes out of his jeans and climbs onto the bed, stretching over to reach for one last thing on his nightstand.

Pyrrha shivers with delight as he settles between her legs and lets his body rest over hers for the moment, his hot erection laying atop her stomach. Her skin buzzes, sensation toeing that thin high wire between pleasure and pain, the pull of the full moon making her hypersensitive. Her blood sings at the warmth of his presence, her head swims at his scent. She wants to devour him in every sense of the word and he's only _inches_ away. She can almost taste him as her tongue pulls across her fangs. Bright green eyes track his hand as he wets his fingers with his tongue, the pitch pupils dilating as his hand eases between her thighs.

"Yes," she gasps, her body jumping at the initial contact of the pads of his fingers against her clit. A velvety growl rumbles through her, her jaw clenching and lips flaring to reveal her fangs as his touch works in small, steady circles. Her clawed fingers flex against her palms, red furrows welling up under the pressure.

She's wet and hot and wanting, just as Jaune expects. He dips his head and smiles against her chest before planting butterfly kisses between her breasts. He leaves a little mark on her sternum, chuckling at her surprised squeak in response to the sharp sensation. Jaune kisses the inner swell of her breast, dragging his lips across her skin to take the firm nipple between them. His tongue swirls once, twice around the tender peak before he closes his mouth around it with a light press of his teeth, his fingers sinking into her aching core at the same time. Pyrrha jerks beneath him, a snap of metal against the headboard as the chain pulls tight.

"Deeper," she pleads, her head pressing back into the pillow.

Jaune acknowledges the demand with a curt hum, the minor vibration enough to make her shudder again. His initial penetration is testing, searching, making sure she's able to take a little more effort. His ring finger joins the middle inside of her and they curl upward as he pushes to the knuckle. Pyrrha's hips buck, her entire body tries to curl against the restraints and his weight. Jaune registers the dull groan of straining leather as his hand works into a rhythm, he can already feel her core fluttering around his fingers.

Likely the only upside to making love on the full moon: it is so easy to bring Pyrrha to the brink and nudge her over.

Pyrrha's first climax is quick and shattering, her hips lifting completely off the bed. Before she even comes all the way down from it she's begging for another. She'll succumb twice more, taking a moment to recover as the last one is particularly intense. She's still for a moment, panting and smiling, a stray bead of sweat rolling from her temple. "Could...c-could you push the hair out of my face, please?"

Jaune nods without a second thought, though he reaches carefully with his free hand so he doesn't trigger a reactionary snap of her jaws by moving too quickly. He's wary when she tips her chin up, his palm close enough for her lips to reach. Pyrrha looks back at him, almost daring him to let her with the restrained viciousness of her gaze and a smirk. A part of him wants to chance it. Gingerly he pushes the stray curls of hair from her forehead and cheeks with the tip of his finger, her eyes tracking his movement not lost on him. Pyrrha lifts her head and puts a quick kiss to his palm, giggling when he reflexively pulls back his hand.

"Hey," he almost scolds. " _Your_ rules, not mine."

She feigns innocence, batting her lashes, a hard sell with fangs like hers.

Jaune can't help but to smile a little himself. "Are all your kind this cheeky?"

"They're worse." she chuckles. "Now I want you inside me."

He blushes, not meaning to as her words catch him by surprise. "Are you still okay? Still comfortable?"

She only nods, her bottom lip between her teeth, anxious. Pyrrha watches him, hungry, as he sits on the balls of his feet, his erection proudly standing up from between his thighs. He finds the small plastic package from the nightstand just beside him on the bed, palming it before tearing it open. With a little groan and a knit of his brow he rolls the condom into place, tossing the package towards the small basket by his nightstand. He misses but doesn't care. He feels the vibration of another chesty growl as he grabs her thighs, one in each hand, and props them atop his own, her knees hooking over his hips when he inches closer.

Jaune loves the way her mouth drops open and her eyes roll back when he enters her. The comfortable rumble of a purr ripples across his skin when he leans over her, stomach to stomach. Her ankles lock together over the small of his back, burying him to the hilt and pushing a deep grunt out of him. It's only now that he feels it, feels Pyrrha's feral desires coursing through him with a spike of adrenaline in his blood. Feeling her heat, hearing her whimper his name, the smell of her, spurs his own dormant instincts like a fan to the flames. It's the closest he can come to understand the pull of the full moon on her, to comprehend her desperation to be with him. As he takes in the incredible image of her bound and willing beneath him, he can only form one coherent thought. A word: _mate_. Both a title and a demand. Jaune starts with easy, steady thrusts, his hands framing her hips.

But it doesn't stay easy or steady, it never does. The bed frame bangs against the wall, chipping the paint and varnish on the wood. Leather groans and chains snap loudly with tension. Too many times Jaune is tempted to cut her loose, something in him dying to feel her hands and claws all over him, her fangs at his throat. God, what would it be like to just...let go? How would it feel to take everything she wanted to give, now when she is at her most ravenous?

_How would it feel to be like her?_

Jaune loses the thought along with all focus entirely when he comes with one hard grunt, his hips making a punctuated thrust into hers. His body shudders with staggering gasps for air, his frame rattled with tiny tremors. After a moment, his recovery partial, he's only mildly surprised to find himself still hard. Somehow their bond had a habit of offering him a second wind. Not that he -or Pyrrha- is complaining. He tidies himself up, putting on a new condom, and proceeds to roll her on her side and to take her from behind, loving the feel of his body flush against hers. He kisses her shoulders and neck around the collar, scraping with his teeth and receiving a delighted snarl in return. Jaune fills himself on the scent of her hair, and takes the risk of letting their fingers lace together as he pushes inside her again.

They'll climax together in the end. Jaune can sense her heat dissipating with the small shudders he can feel around his cock. But he doesn't try to loosen her restraints yet. He kisses up and down her back, smooths his slick palms down her ribs and hip and thigh, soothing her through the remnants of her feverish hunger. He tucks his mouth against her neck.

"Better now?"

"Mmm." the response is more of a purr coupled with a lazy growl. She really does feel good, but Pyrrha's having a hard time forming words, her tongue feeling as heavy as her body. Sleep is coming fast and she's more than ready for it to take her down.

"Give me a minute."

Pyrrha only nods. She's patient.

Jaune cleans himself up again but refrains from putting his clothes back on. He quickly returns to the bed and starts undoing the clasps and buckles, starting with the collar, the parachute clip coming apart in congress with her comfortable exhale. He sets the restraints on his nightstand piece by piece, and then wraps her up in his arms beneath the blankets once she's free of it all.

She nuzzles his shoulder. "Kiss me, please." And she lifts her chin, waiting for but a second before he lowers his lips to hers. It's safer now that she's sated. Now that she doesn't have a knee-jerk urge to bite. She smiles against his mouth, parting her lips in request for his tongue, sucking on it when he responds. She likes the little groan that works between them, the vibration giving her fresh goosebumps. When they part she leans into him, settling against his chest and listening in passing to his heartbeat.

"How long before you have to leave for work?"

"I've still got an hour or two. Sleep."

A little hum. "I love you."

"Love you too." and he kisses the top of her head.

 

 

Ren and Nora will return home that night just in time for dinner. Jaune got a couple of pizzas since he was late getting off of work. That and he wanted more time with Pyrrha while she was awake before she had to go back in the cage for the night. The Kirin secretly watches them, always interested and quietly entertained by the way humans behave. He loves to watch Jaune treat Pyrrha as if she is his own kind, like there is nothing between them but love and trust as they talk and laugh together and dance to the radio in the living room. Ren admires the concerned focus that comes over the human as the hours tick closer and closer to midnight and his gentle reminders of the time to the woman he so obviously adores. He smiles at how it doesn't faze Jaune when they're a few minutes late heading down to the basement.

What he doesn't love is the feeling that comes over him when he sees Jaune at the top of the basement stairs nearly an hour later, stock still from the moment his eyes are on him. Ren is briefly curious, wondering why he lingers, and why he looks so suddenly...sick? And he certainly doesn't love the realization of the bright red smear at the corner of Jaune's mouth coupled with a small welt, or the way the human looks back at him, pale, his blue eyes full of shock.

 

 

Author's Note:  Just wrote this for fun after watching a favorite movie of mine. I know it's not my best, but I mostly did it to get it out of my head and make room between chapters of Embers of Autumn. In any case, long live Arkos and I hope you enjoyed.

 


	2. Part Two

Hot dizziness fills her head and she doesn't know which way is up. Her heart pounds within the tight cage of her ribs and blood hums in her ears. She presses her forehead to harsh and cold concrete, struggling to focus. It's rare that becoming human again is so hard, but that's the case for Pyrrha this morning. She's still pulling hard against her restraints, thinking she can break them if she just kept trying. Her knees scrape the floor, bloodied, and she screams for Jaune with a broken voice. She can still taste his blood on her tongue and it terrifies her. A fear that doubles over and lances her straight through when the basement door swings open and it isn't him.

Nora hurries into the room, anxious uncertainty stretching her freckled face as she gestures with her hands, not entirely sure what good it'll do. "Hey, it's okay-"

"Where's Jaune?!" tears are rolling hot down her cheeks. When Nora doesn't answer right away, words sputtering on her inexperience, Pyrrha feels the fear spike again. _Oh god, he left. He left. He's gone_. "Get me out of this!" she snarls, all of the chains attached to her snapping tight as she lurches for the door. Her fangs are blunt and her claws look more like human fingernails, but her eyes still shimmer wildly with a savage brilliance.

"Pyrrha, please," Nora steps up to the bars, her brow low and sympathetic. "You know I won't do that until you calm down."

Again, her rules, not Nora's. All of this was by Pyrrha's rules, rules that she herself had broken.

But she can't calm down, she can't pull herself together and starts sobbing, her face -her entire body- scrunching with something that can only be described as rampant pain. Pyrrha slumps onto her side, chains rattling against the floor, and she cries.

_I didn't mean it,_ her mind chants feverishly,  _I didn't mean it. It was an accident. I swear to god it was an accident_ . All it had taken was too long a kiss at the same moment a shock of pain coursed through her jaw as the change began, making her teeth close reflexively, one canine breaking his skin.

Nora fumbles with the key ring and starts undoing the padlocks on the cell door, the task seeming to take forever since she isn't used to doing it. Worry still creases her face as her patience thins, she quietly swears at the tokens of brass as she works each one into a lock and twists. She fights with the door until she remembers the stakes in the hinges, tearing them out so she can finally open it. Why do humans have to be so damn thorough?

Nora picks up the bronze and crimson afghan as she steps into the cage, approaching Pyrrha cautiously with the blanket stretched between both hands. Her only clues how to handle the situation are what she has seen Jaune do, and she does her best to mimic his careful actions from the soft words of assurance, to the slow movements, to the great care she takes to drape the blanket over her and help her sit up. "Just take a deep breath."

Pyrrha responds reflexively, her chest quickly expanding and holding onto the gulp of oxygen as she tries to ground herself. She makes a conscious effort to center her senses, acknowledging the gentle weight of Nora's hands on her upper arms and the tender, outward press of her ribs as her body tenses. When she exhales she can breathe in a steady rhythm again, though it's quick and shallow. She forces herself to take a second deep breath, shuddering through it.

Nora carefully tucks stray stresses of hair behind her ears. "Okay now?"

No. The panic is still perched in her heart, threatening to overwhelm her again. But she slowly nods anyway. "Jaune's gone."

"But he'll come back." Nora assures her. "I promise."

Pyrrha shakes her head, not entirely meaning to. "No, you don't know that,"

"I do. Ren's with him." her features pull anxiously when the words don't sooth her, when she starts to cry again. Nora pulls her against her chest. "He wouldn't leave you, he loves you too much."

"I bit him." she sputters, shuddering in Nora's arms. "Oh god, I bit him."

"Shh, it'll be all right. They'll be back in no time, you'll see." At least she hoped so.

 

 

Ren has never liked cars. Since humans first invented them they made him perpetually uncomfortable. However he stomachs this disdain for Jaune's sake, riding shotgun in his truck but looking physically unhappy about it. He's hunkered low in the seat, one hand reaching for the oh-crap-strap above the window and the other white-knuckled on the edge of the console between the seats. He keeps his wide and unblinking eyes on the ceiling, hating the sensation in his gut at the view of the world outside passing by in a blur. The way Jaune drives isn't helping either.

When the two left the house just after one in the morning, Jaune had driven calmly and with purpose, following Ren's direction, but now that the sun has been up for more than half an hour he is not so calm and it shows in the way his leg is heavy on the gas pedal and how he jerks the steering wheel to navigate even the slightest turn. Tight little grunts escape the Kirin as the truck jumps over the uneven gravel of the driveway.

A cloud of dust erupts from under the tires as the car slides into park almost too close to the front porch. Jaune completely forgoes closing his door, leaving it to swing on hits hinges as he jumps out of the car and sprints up the steps to the front door. Briefly he forgets which way the door swings, walking into it shoulder-first when it doesn't give under his initial, insistent shove. The door clips the tip of his nose when he pulls hard and fast, face twisted with self-frustration.

Jaune quickly scans the living room and kitchen once its in his line of sight, finding both spaces vacant. He doesn't have to call out for anyone or check the upstairs. He knows where he needs to go, who needs him most. He stumbles at the foot of the basement stairs, having jumped the last few steps to an uneasy landing. He stops himself from falling through the open door, hands bracing against the frame.

He's happy to see she isn't alone, but that little comfort is crushed when he meets Pyrrha's eyes, comprehends the staggering fear in them. For a moment they just look at each other, neither one of them able to find or offer up any words. She breaks contact first, tucking her chin and turning away, the gesture snatching the breath right out of him. Nora grabs his focus as he straightens and takes sedated steps into the room. The two communicate in silent signals, Nora nodding as she eases to her feet, tossing him the ring of keys once she thinks him close enough to catch them. She gives him an encouraging pat on the arm as she passes.

Jaune takes a stabilizing breath, stopping at the threshold of the cage. Her posture is troubling, her shoulders are tight and hiked up towards her ears. She's shaking, and he can tell she's trying not to cry. It breaks his heart.

"Can I come in?"

She chokes, no words forming. He doesn't move until he sees movement resembling a nod.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here." he says carefully, taking the first step, his feet feeling almost too heavy. "I tried to get back before sunrise." It kills him when she doesn't respond.

His close proximity is bristling against her and she mentally cringes. Her feeling of self-disgust taints Jaune's usually soothing presence, making her want to instinctively distance herself. If she could just find a deep dark hole to crawl in...

"Please look at me." comes his quiet plea. He's standing in front of her, not too close since he isn't sure where she wants him to be. Her face is hidden by her hair, he doesn't know what to do. "Pyrrha,"

"I'm sorry," she sobs, her head dropping.

He exhales, more so deflates. His brow lowers and he purses his lips, taking one big step and kneeling down in front of her. Jaune doesn't expect her to jerk away when he reaches for the buckle of the collar. She looks at him, sideways, wary.

"I'm not going to leave you locked up."

_It would be safer. And after we had been so careful..._

"Come on, let me get you out of this, take you upstairs. You need to eat."

"Don't act like it didn't happen!" she cries. "I  _infected_ you!"

His heart takes another heavy blow as tears fill her already reddened eyes, and his throat tightens as he tries to swallow. "Pyrrha, I'm okay. Really. Look," Jaune tilts his head, making sure she can see. "It's not even there."

The disgust on her face morphs to confusion. "W-what? How...that's not possible." Pyrrha remembers what happened, she  _knows_ she had bit down on the outer edge of his lip, splitting it. There should be  _something_ . A bruise, a welt, a smudge of copper...but there isn't. And now that he's close enough for her to smell, she couldn't pick up a certain scent, an odor she recognized from the few Beta werewolves -those who were turned, not born into it- she had met throughout her life. They had a peculiarity to their smell that always made Pyrrha mentally cringe, and she didn't find that on him. True, it had only been hours since he was compromised, but it would still be there -albeit faintly. "But I-"

"I'll explain, I promise," he assures her gently, trying again for the collar, tension easing out of him when she allows him access. "Just let me get these off of you first, okay?"

Pyrrha makes herself nod, suddenly realizing just how  _sick_ she is being restrained, but it's in equal measure with just how unsafe she believes she is. Though her primal urges are weaker, the full moon beginning to wane, she just can't stomach the idea of trusting herself with him so close to her.

"Please try to relax."

"I am."

Jaune takes his time, as much as he doesn't want to. He moves slowly, methodically, knowing if he can show control it will help her. He makes an effort to offer soft caresses as he goes, brushing her flushed skin with the back of his hands, his fingertips. Little condolences meant to translate as his forgiveness, to let her know that he is anything but angry or afraid over what happened. That he knows she didn't do it on purpose.

When he's finished he pulls her afghan across her shoulders, encouraging her towards him in the same motion until she rests against his chest. He's thankful she doesn't resist, tucking her forehead into the bend of his neck as he puts his arms around her. Jaune feels wet warmth spreading through his cotton shirt. Tears.

"I was so scared."

"I know. I'm sorry." he apologizes again, kissing the top of her head. He wishes there was something more to say, a better way to show the deep remorse he feels. Instead he just blurts out "I had a good reason."

Pyrrha leans back so she can look at him, her expression severe. "Where did you go?"

Jaune takes a breath. "You remember my friend from work, Yang? You two met at the last Solstice party,"

"The big blonde?"

"Yeah." he nods with a little laugh. "Turns out she and Ren go back a ways...she owed him a favor. Now, I can't give you all the details -its part of the deal-"

"You made a contract with a supernatural?!" she pales.

"No, no, not like that," he shakes his head hard, his shaggy bangs tossing across his eyes. "It's fine, really. But she...took care of it, and all she asked for in return is that I make a big dinner for her and a couple of her friends. That's it."

She's obviously confused, crimson brows uneven. "I don't...what?"

"I would explain  _everything_ if I could, but Yang said she would fill you in when she comes over."

"B-but," she tries and tries to wrap her head around it, but eventually gives up, rubbing her eyes. "...It's too much right now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." he smiles even though she isn't looking. "Come on."

Jaune lifts her into his arms, carrying her out of the basement and all the way up to their room on the second floor. He sits her down on the bed, kneeling in front of her, gripping her hands securely as he runs the usual gambit of questions; What do you need? What can I do? Would a hot bath help at all? Can Ren make you something? Do you just need some time alone?

Pyrrha almost nods at the last one, but there would be plenty of time for that later. She's too sick to her stomach to eat. So she concedes to a bath, maybe it could make her feel less vile. It does, marginally, not enough to take Jaune up on his offer to join her. She needs to feel isolated for right now, drown out the world with the sound and sting of almost scorching hot water. It's enough to push every last thought out of her head, fill it with static, and make room to sort everything back into its proper place when she steps out.

Jaune's waiting with a fresh change of clothes and a towel. There's no exchange of words as he helps her dry off, reaching for her hairbrush as she dresses. They exchange glances in the mirror as he pulls her hair into a loose braid, something easy for her to sleep with. He follows close behind as she shuffles back to the bedroom, climbing under the blankets right behind her to gather her up in his arms where she uncomfortably settles. She's still so tense and it tears at his heartstrings.

"When do you have to go to work?" and though she exhales with an easy sigh, her brow is still tight, distressed.

"I called in sick."

"That's not funny." she snips, her hand turning into a fist against his chest.

"I'm not trying to be." he defends gently, accepting her critical gaze. "But I'm not leaving you alone, not today."

"Jaune, I-"

"Don't say you're sorry. You've said that enough." he tucks his chin, his forehead pressing against her hair. "I know you're sorry. I forgive you and I still love you. Please believe that."

Her lips press into a thin line, whatever argument she had effectively snuffed out.

"And I have no intention of leaving." he continues, his voice almost a whisper. "I promised."

Pyrrha almost smiles at the thought. Jaune had promised to stay with her in his own way, not in actual words. Renovating his basement to build the cage, designing the restraints, his methodical care of her before and after the change, and his awareness of her greatest fear -abandonment; all these things were silent declarations of his commitment. And after almost three years together, he didn't really have to  _say_ anything.

Pyrrha feels her anxiety break like a fever, her body letting it all go at once as she puts her arms around him and twists their legs together beneath the blanket. Jaune returns the embrace, taking in her scent and allowing a smile to pull at his mouth. Finally this feels right again, feels like home.

"So when is this dinner Yang asked you for?" Pyrrha inquires softly, trying to listen to his heartbeat now that it's inciting comfort instead of hunger.

"She said she would call me." he sighs tiredly. He's been up all night -without Ren's vitalizing tea- and is finally at ease. All Jaune wants now is to hold her and sleep, let the world turn without him for a few hours. "If nothing else I'll see her at work tomorrow."

Pyrrha just nods, tucking a little closer, kissing his throat. She's glad the taste of him is no longer abrasive to her senses, like his blood had been. When he inches away just far enough so he can look at her, she follows the guidance of his hand lining her jaw, tipping her chin that he might kiss her. It's slow, sensual, assuasive, but chaste. Neither of them are of the mind or body for  _that_ .

So they sleep.

 

Almost a month goes by before Jaune receives that call, and it comes on the week of the full moon.

"I don't mean to be rude," Jaune shakes his head, his cell phone at his ear, "but it's not a good time. You know why."

_"It's the perfect time, actually. Just trust me."_ he could  _hear_ the suspicious smile in the woman's tone as she chuckles over the line.  _"My mark still on you?"_

"Yeah, I had Ren check it."

_"Really?"_ she sounds genuinely surprised.

"Something wrong?" he asks when she's quiet for too long. Yang Xiaolong is rarely quiet.

_"No, no, it's fine"_ she assures him.  _"Seriously."_

"All right, if you're sure." he swallows. "So who's on your guest list?"

_"My little sister and me, of course."_ of course.  _"Plus two. They're good friends of mine that you haven't met. Should be fun."_

"Have you decided what you want?"

_"Once we're done I'll text you a list. Now, just to warn you, it's going to be a lot. You know my appetite."_

He shudders to himself, remembering the countless times they had sat together for lunch at work, her lunchbox filled to bursting, and she would still be hungry after it was empty. He could almost hear his wallet crying in terror of the impending menu request.

"That's okay. It's the least I can do." he has to force it a little, but once it's out he realizes how true it is. Yang had done him and Pyrrha an incredible kindness. "But, I have to ask...are you up to something?"

_"When am I_ not _up to something?"_

"...Fair enough. You're not going to spring anything on us, are you? Pyrrha...she doesn't  _do_ surprises." The woman he loves is a control freak in all the best ways and for all the best reasons. Unexpected circumstances did nothing but rub her raw.

_"I know, but this won't be that bad, really. I'll tell you more, and I'll sit down with Pyrrha myself, it's just I need to touch base with a friend and hammer out some details first. Okay? I promise it won't be too much. Trust me."_

Hearing her say that - _trust me_ \- did nothing but make him that much more anxious. Still... "Okay. Just...I'm still concerned. It'll be in the -literal-  _middle_ of her cycle. You're sure you don't want to do this another day?"

_"It's all part of the plan, stretch,_ Trust me _. And as a courtesy, we'll show up early, mid-afternoon, say two-ish."_

"Okay. But  _no_ alcohol."

_"Oh no, not a drop, not even for me."_

A puff of air escapes him. "Thank you."

_"No problem. I'll let you go and send that list along. See you in a few days."_

"Thanks again, Yang."

_"You bet."_

And Jaune waits, his phone in his hand, for the telling chime of a received text. When it comes with an abrupt vibration he presses a few buttons, accessing the message. His features steadily stretch as he goes down the list.  _You could feed an army with this much._ But he would gladly do that and more. He would do almost anything if it meant he didn't have to see the fear in Pyrrha's eyes like he had been seeing off and on for the last couple weeks, anything to be able to hold her without her warily tensing in his arms or initially flinching away even in sleep. Anything so that she felt safe in her own skin again and didn't hesitate to kiss him or take his hand. 

They hadn't danced together since the last full moon and he misses her. When he extends an invitation to ride with him to the store and to lunch, Pyrrha quietly declines, looking uncomfortable as she's curled up on the sofa, her knees tucked to her chest. He doesn't push her, though he can't keep back the disappointment in his eyes. He still kisses her cheek before heading for the door, says he loves her and that he'll be back in an hour or two.

Pyrrha listens to the rumbling of the truck leaving the driveway, letting out a heavy sigh when it's quiet again. It isn't that she's glad he's gone, just...

She had never bitten anyone, never scratched anyone. Pyrrha had never been responsible for infecting someone and she didn't know how to process it. How in the hell could he be so...for god's sake, how had he not kicked her out yet? How could he still be so comfortable around her, so trusting? She had come  _this close_ to ruining his life and yet... Her head drops, forehead against her knees as she takes a deep breath. She stands up in a singular and swift motion, almost marching for the back door and stepping outside. Maybe some fresh air would help.

It's partly cloudy, the sun hidden briefly behind a wispy span of white fluff overhead. The garden is full of butterflies even though it shouldn't be, it's too early in the year but they're here all the same. The air is sweet with the fragrance a flowers, again out of season. But having a Kirin for a housemate does that.

Ren is sprawled in the grass, his scales glistening with an ethereal glow even without direct sunlight, bright green and blushing pink and stark sable. His scales are broken up by a soft, snow white pelt covering his whiskered face, underbelly, and lower legs, somewhat hidden by the lush mane of inky blackness and flickers of pink petals. A single horn, like the antler on a deer, slopes back from the middle of his head. He lies there on his back, content, Nora tucked against his side and watching the clouds pass. The butterflies seem to congregate around them, fluttering in aimless circles, drawn to their magic.

For a while Pyrrha sits on the edge of the porch and just watches, finding traces of serenity in simply being there. Sometimes it helped to be with something like her own kind, not necessarily other werewolves, but other supernaturals. Especially Ren and Nora. Their particular natures made them easy to be around, they had no expectations of what could be considered proper behavior in times like these, they were just there to listen or talk or neither.

Nora shifts, puffing at the hair in her face as she parts Ren's mane and props herself on his downy stomach. For a moment she watches the woman on the porch, wondering what's going through her mind and hanging on her heart. Elementals aren't as sensitive as some supernaturals, but they aren't so detached as to not know when someone is worried or upset. And Pyrrha is an obvious commingling of both. Her first instinct is to ask, but stops herself for a change. No need for questions she already has the answers to.

"There's room." Nora says instead, smiling.

Pyrrha's briefly confused, eyes wide and brows raised. She watches Nora pat the grass on Ren's other side, then watches the Kirin turn his head and look at her with solid pink eyes. Now she understands, and smirks, a little redness in her cheeks. "Can I keep my clothes on?"

Nora sniffs. "If you want to be a square about it." and she rolls her eyes playfully. "Clothes are dumb."

Pyrrha giggles, easing to her feet and taking casual steps across the yard. She pulls her long ponytail over her shoulder, letting it rest on her chest as she lays on her back. She feels Ren's snout nudge her temple with a little pop of static. His magic moves around her like a warm blanket, soothing. She absently strokes his scaled side with the back of her hand, silently thankful for his concern.

"Ren says there's gonna be a party."

"Just dinner." Pyrrha corrects casually, sounding like she means to assure herself.

"You excited?"

"Not really." her crimson brows pull together, a deep breath working in and out. "I...we don't usually have company during my cycle."

"But they'll be supernaturals, like us."

"I don't know any of them, even Yang is just an acquaintance. I mean...I know I'm hard to be around enough as it is, I'd hate to think how much of a handful I will be surrounded by a bunch of strangers."

"Just worry about you and we'll take care of the rest, right Ren?" the Kirin chuffs in response. "We'll make sure no one bothers you."

"Thank you."

"And you know Jaune wouldn't put you at risk."

Pyrrha feels herself tense. "It's not my safety I'm worried about."

"I know, but the rest of us are. None of us want anything to happen to you."

Her heart clenches a little, a slight burn rising in her eyes that she wipes away with her forearm.

"I'd have to kneecap a bitch."

Pyrrha laughs, a bright and honest sound. With her hand over her mouth reflexively she rolls onto her side, her free handing finding a strand of Ren's mane to twist into. And for a time she's content to lie there and listen to the whisper of butterfly wings.

 

The following week is easier for them. Even as the full moon draws near Pyrrha seems more relaxed and open. She's more receptive to Jaune and his little affections, no longer seeming so submissive in his presence and readily taking his hand when he tries for hers. She happily helps him prepare dinner, starting just before noon to make sure everything is ready by the time Yang and her friends arrive. There is  _so much_ food; her initial thought is that it's just too much for just eight people. But, then again, Jaune's coworker could easily eat enough for three people. And how she was able to do it and still have such an incredible figure was beyond her. Some supernaturals just have all the luck.

It's roughly half passed one when there's a heavy handed knock on the door, three successive impacts that can be heard even from the back yard. Nora answers the door once Jaune gives her a nod from the kitchen, and is greeted loudly and scooped up into the thick and muscular arms of Yang Xiaolong.

"How's my favorite spark plug?" Yang asks affectionately as she sets Nora down. The taller woman's very presence seems to fill the room with a gentle, golden glow coupled with a comfortable warmth. "Oh my god, it smells  _amazing_ in here!"

"Good to see you, Yang," Nora hugs her back around the waist before taking a step back. "Come on in, introduce me to your friends."

"Well you know Ruby already," Yang steps aside to let her little sister through the door.

"Oh, your horns are coming in!" Nora has to stop her natural curiosity from making her touch them. They look a lot like Ren's, but there's two of them and they're smooth and black with blushing red tips, curving like a goat's. "They're adorable!"

"Yeah," Ruby blushes a little, still shy about them. There had been no knowing what Ruby would be when she was born, showing no obvious signs of being supernatural. But now that she is well into the throws of puberty -almost sixteen even- her mother's Sylvan Fae heritage is blossoming. Perhaps her silver eyes should have been evidence enough. "Thanks for having us over."

"Don't thank me, thank your sister for convincing Jaune to do it."

"Not that I had to twist his arm -more like slap him around a little," and she laughs with an elbow jabbing Nora's arm. "Go say hi to everyone squirt, I'll be along in a minute." When Ruby starts away with a nod, Yang shrugs. "It's been hard on her. Her powers are a little crazy right now."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, dad's got a nice new oak tree in the middle of his living room now. And it came with a skylight, too."

"Wow, sounds fancy." Nora's brows jump for her hairline, though the setting of her eyes belies an understand of how troublesome young supernaturals coming into their own can be. "So who else did you bring?"

Yang gestures to the still open door with on hand, ushering in the last two guests. "This is my friend, Blake Belladonna. Blake, this is Nora."

Nora knows immediately that Blake isn't human. The Elemental can sense the glamor on her but can also see right through it, her eyes zeroing in on the feline ears perched atop her head. Then she met the faunus' amber and black slitted eyes, watching a hint of surprise flicker across Blake's face.

"Your not just a faunus, are you?"

"How," Blake stops herself, smiling somewhat sheepishly. "No, I'm not. Shadowmancer."

"Whoa, okay, nothing personal, but I'd appreciate you staying at least  _that_ far away from me for right now." Nora has her hands out, bracing with a half step back. "Don't be offended, please, but-"

"No, it's all right. I understand. My...particular talents don't come with a lot of trust. But I appreciate the honesty. Mind if I have a seat?"

"Make yourself at home."

Yang swallows, her gaze apologetic. She clears her throat. "And this is my boss, Miss Schnee."

This time Nora loses all the color in her face as the woman enters the house, her magical energy flooding the place, chasing away the warmth Yang brought with a shuddering cold. It's a fine compliment to the snowy whiteness of her hair and clothes, the natural pallor of her skin and icy blueness of her eyes. When she tries to extend her hand in greeting her words are cut short by the punching commotion of shattering glass. Ren stands on the threshold between the kitchen and living room, hands half open in front him from having once held a tray of tea cups and saucers. Now they're all over the floor in wet pieces and his eyes are set with wary fear.

"Oh shit." Yang gapes. "I forgot. I'm  _so sorry_ ," she carefully navigates around the still too shocked Elemental to reach Ren, apologizing repeatedly as she ushers him back into the kitchen.

"I didn't know she was friends with a Kirin." Weiss says with calm interest, watching briefly before turning her attention back to Nora. "It wasn't my intention to upset him, I apologize."

"Th-that's okay." She forces herself to say. She wasn't about to tell off a White Witch to her face, not one with that kind of magical residue rolling off of her in waves. "We didn't know either. P-please come in, have a seat."

"Nora, was it? With all due respect, I won't stay if I'm not welcome. You're free to ask that I leave." her chin is slightly tucked, her perfect posture somewhat subdued, submissive.

"It's not my house." by certain, ages-old rules she couldn't rescind permission solely for that reason. "Just...you know."

Weiss tries not to laugh, gently amused to think an Elemental would attempt to tell  _her_ what to do. But it doesn't make Nora any less correct; Weiss is a guest in another person's home, and she would behave accordingly. "Can I help you clean up?"

"No. It's fine." and Nora hurries away to find a broom.

Out on the porch Pyrrha had felt the other supernaturals enter the house, the small hairs on her body bristling with a sharp static charge. The wariness in her eases a little when Ruby steps out onto the porch, and though she doesn't recognize her she doesn't feel threatened. She seems nice enough and Jaune accepts her presence with a warm greeting and a hug as he tends the grill. This allows Pyrrha to relax again, almost forgetting about her completely when she wanders into the garden.

But that comfort is obliterated when Ren shoves through the back door with Yang close behind him, the two exchanging heated words in a language no one understands. Pyrrha has never seen Ren so agitated before, it's almost frightening to see the hard, severe lines forming around his eyes. Yang appears to be pleading with him and he's having none of it, swatting his hand dismissively before tearing away his glamor and galloping across the lawn to disappear into the woods.

Yang groans, fingers hooked into her scalp. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"What's the matter?" Jaune tests cautiously.

"I'm dumb." Yang shakes her head, the mess of golden hair tossing against her back. "I didn't warn Ren about Miss Schnee."

" _My boss is here_ ?!" Jaune pales. "When were you going to tell  _me_ ? Wait," then he doubles back, expression going blank for a moment. "Miss Schnee is supernatural?"

" _Oh yeah_ ," Yang nods, "The whole Schnee family is full of 'em, one of the oldest cabals in the region."

He blinks, face still unreadable. "Okay...now pretend like I have no idea what you just said."

"Long story short; Witches and Warlocks tend to flock together, consolidate power, and play the system to protect themselves and other supernaturals. I swear, man, I think you're the only human in the entire company. Except maybe for that jerk in accounting...but he could be a troll. Like -a literal troll."

Jaune takes a deep breath, processes it, and exhales with a shake of his head. "Okay. Sure. I'll bite. So what's Ren upset about?"

"White Witches and his kind...they've never been on good terms. Back in they day they weren't on good terms with  _any_ magical creatures like him and me. I'm not really at liberty to say anything else -not my story to tell- but you can probably be sure Ren won't be back so long as Weiss is in your house."

Worry scrunches his face. "Is that going to interfere with...our agreement?"

"No way, this was my fuck-up, not yours. I'll make it up to him, though, if he'll forgive me." Yang pushes her hand across her scalp again.

"So what is Miss Schnee doing here in the first place?"

"Well, one, she's a good friend of mine, her and Blake both. And she knows her way around magic seals. I wanted a second set of eyes on that mark I gave you. Is it still there?"

"As far as I know."

"Then let me watch the grill while you have her take a look at it, okay? She already knows about it, so just ask her."

"But if I leave you alone with the food, it'll be gone before I get back." he states flatly.

"You have my word that I'll leave a few scraps." and she smiles as big as possible, one hand over her heart. "Now scram, let me hit on your woman in peace."

"Excuse me?"

"Off with you!" and she playfully shoos him back into the house, smacking him once on the behind before shutting the door on him. Yang catches Pyrrha's searing gaze as she walks back to the grill, still smiling. "I'm only kidding. I know better. You two are stuck like stink on a skunk, I'm not about to fool with that. But I still want to talk to you about something."

"Jaune warned me about that."

Yang throws back her head with a punctuated laugh. "Smart man. But in all seriousness,"

Pyrrha swallows, bracing herself.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning, shouldn't I? Like...I'm sure you'd like to know what I am."

"It would help."

She nods. "I know the moon's already starting to pull on you, so I'll keep it simple." though she pauses a moment to pull open the lid on the grill and ogle what's inside, taking a deep sniff through flared nostrils. "I'm a Luck Dragon, and as long as people believe in me I'm able to grant blessings and good fortune on anyone who knows how to ask for it. Thankfully I've still got a whole country worth of people that pray to me. Not me specifically, but my kind, so it still counts. Even then, though, my magic works under certain rules. It all depends on the intent and the reason." she steps away from the grill and sits down in one of the deck chairs, Pyrrha just across from her. 

"Jaune's a nice guy, I like him a lot, and while those kinds of things really dictate just how strong my magic can be, it isn't nearly as important as  _why_ he asked for my blessing. I asked him what he wanted, why, and his first answer was  _you_ . He didn't come to me to be spared an infection, he came to me so  _you_ wouldn't feel guilty about biting him.

"Now, naturally, I don't do anything for free. I have to get something out of it, it's just a law of the universe. That, coupled with my kind's nasty habit of screwing around with people's heads, make for some interesting requests that second as tests of character. It's the best way for me to know if what I'm getting into is worth my trouble."

"So...you asked for dinner?"

Yang chuckles. "After a fashion, yes. But initially I told him I would heal him if he slept with me." She tries so hard not to laugh at the way Pyrrha gapes at her, all the color leaving her face. " _But_ that was just the head-game I was playing with him. It was just a test, I promise. Even if it wasn't, he was heading for the door before I could even get all the words out of my mouth. He was  _more than willing_ to let his world get flipped on its head rather than break your trust. That's a  _hell_ of a testament to the kind of man he is and how much he adores you. Don't get me wrong, I had a feeling of that already -he talks about you at work all the time, and I remember you two dancing at the solstice party. I think every supernatural in the room was jealous of you.

"I can't even begin to believe how lucky you are to have each other. I really can't." Yang shakes her head slowly, awestruck. "Love is hard to find in the first place, but throw in your condition and it's next to impossible. But you two found it  _somehow._ Once I realized just how much you meant to him, I had to give him my blessing. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"Well...thank you." Pyrrha sputters a little. "I know that doesn't even begin to...but..."

"It's fine." Yang waves a dismissive hand. "Folks like us need more friends like him, and if I can help save true love, I'll do it. Call it my third secret kink."

"What's your second?" she asked before she thought it through.

"Consent."

"Then what's your  _first_ ?"

"Threesomes." and Yang nods with one golden brow raised. "And there's the only downside to being a Dragon; I can't lie to save my life." she laughs. "But back to business...this is where things get a little weird. It's the reason I brought Miss Schnee."

Pyrrha huffs through an uneasy laugh. " _Get_ weird? Aren't they weird enough?"

"A fair point." Yang crosses her arms and leans back in the chair. "But my blessings aren't usually permanent. They last as long as they need to, as is the nature of luck. My mark will fade with the magic and eventually disappear, and with a spell like the one I used on Jaune, it should have left already. Now, I'd imagine you're a bit confused seeing as it looks like I don't have a handle on my own mojo, but I'm in the same boat. This has never happened before." a little laugh and a mumble to herself. "That's what he said."

Pyrrha blinks, blindsided by the quiet joke. "So...what do we do?"

"I don't really know, but I had a thought." Lilac eyes settle on Pyrrha, a dare hinting in her gaze somewhere. "Just let me get it all out before you say anything, and I would like it if you gave this a  _lot_ of thought before you say no."

"Um...okay."

"Would you be willing to..." she stops, lips pursing, "shit, how do I say this right?"

"Just say what's on your mind." Pyrrha concedes.

"Okay. You're not gonna like the sound of it." and she knows that for a fact. "I chose today for the dinner for a reason. While the magic is still on him...I want you to  _try_ to infect Jaune."

 

 

Author's Note: Oh good lord, what have I done? This was supposed to be a one shot, that's all! Thankfully, though, I believe one more chapter should do it for this. I guess I'm just having too much fun. Now, I got a couple of comments about whether or not to turn Jaune into a werewolf. While I could have just as easily turned him, that just isn't the story I want to tell. Maybe another time, another place, but not today. I want a love story, not a struggle to find normal that ends in a love story. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it, and I look forward to seeing you at the conclusion. No telling when that will be though.

 


	3. Chapter Three

_Be advised: Lemony fresh content ahead. Also, Yang Xioalong's irreverence of seemingly religious rites do not reflect my own and no offense is intended by the subject matter of the material._

 

"You want me to w _hat_?" Pyrrha recoils sharply, her spine lining up with the back of the chair. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"That's the rumor." Yang jokes with a lilt of her head, seemingly unfazed by Pyrrha's reaction. "But I'm serious."

"I'll do no such thing."

"Now hear me out,"

"I think I've heard enough." She stands up, barely able to take a full step before she feels Yang's large hand cuff her wrist. Pyrrha jerks against her grip, looking back at her with a half formed snarl on her mouth.

"Please, Pyrrha, just let me explain. I promise you that Jaune isn't in any danger."

She pulls against her again, this time slipping free. "The hell he isn't! You're asking me-,"

"I know what I'm asking." Yang nods once. "Now sit down, okay?"

Pyrrha remains standing, still firm featured, still defensive. Her primal instincts are starting to stir, sensing something perceived as threatening. "I'm not going to hurt him again."

"Did I say you had to? There are other ways to contract your condition, isn't there?"

Pyrrha's brow knits a little tighter. She won't let thoughts of those other ways distract her, not now. She just nods quickly, continuing with "Does Jaune know about this?"

"We've talked about it in passing, yeah." It's easy to discuss these things on a work site full of supernaturals. "Said he'd only be okay with trying if you were."

"How could you possibly think I would be  _okay_ with this?"

"Because I'm still holding out hope that you'll let me give you the whole story." Both golden brows lift, waiting. "So?"

Her lips pull into a thin line as she eyes the Dragon, suspicious. Her fists clench at her sides and then she takes breath. When Pyrrha exhales she forces herself to relax and sit back down, settling on the edge of the seat. "All right. I'm listening."

"Thank you." Yang smiles. "My mark is still on him, so -like I said- he's perfectly safe. Even if something should go sideways, I've promised to heal him and a Dragon's word is their bond. Now I don't mean for you two to feel like we're taking advantage of you, but we really want to see how this pans out."

"Why?"

"Well, for starters it's  _my_ magic, but I've never seen it do this before. Second, if Weiss can figure out  _why_ and  _how_ it's behaving this way, who knows...maybe there's hope for a cure. Or a vaccine. Or something." Yang sees the look on Pyrrha's face, the way her features stretch, and adds "For the Betas at least."

Pyrrha nods reflexively. She wouldn't say the thought of a cure, of life as a human, had never crossed her mind. A passing fancy at best, really. But she knows how hard some Betas have it. What comes as natural and eventually controllable for her is a living hell for them.

"It's not gonna happen overnight, sure, but it would be a huge help. I hope you don't think I'm trying to guilt you."

"I don't, and you make a good point." she takes a breath, her face scrunching with worry. "But does it have to be now?"

"Who knows when that mark is going to fade? And I know the fullest phase of the moon is when your urges are strongest, when you're the most contagious-"

Pyrrha massages her brow firmly with one hand, then leans back in the chair with her arms around her, protective. "When I'm the most dangerous."

"Well,"

"You don't need to be nice about it. It's the truth." she shakes her head, tucking her thighs against her chest, retreating. "I could really hurt him."  _Or worse. This could be the straw that breaks the camel's back, convince him to leave._

"And I think you're not giving Jaune enough credit." Yang stands up, inching her shoulders with a lilt of her head, her tone casual. She steps over to the grill and pulls up the lid, using her bare hands to turn the racks of ribs inside. 

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it; how long you two been together? Almost three years or something?" she looks over her shoulder, catching Pyrrha's brief nod. "Now look at what he's managed to do in that time, think about all the things he's done just for  _you_ , for the sake of your safety. Add all that together and stand it beside  _one accident_ . You think you managed all that by yourself? Hate to break it to you, honey, but you didn't. Hell, neither did he -you did it by working together, but that's another story. Still," Yang stretches her hands over her head as she moves back to her seat, collapsing into it. "You've got to let him handle his half of this equation. He knows what he's in for, and you have to let him carry that. You're his Alpha, not his mother."

Pyrrha jumps a little, most of her surprise internalized. "B-but I'm not...we haven't,"

"Oh, I know. But, to be totally honest, that's the only thing left between you." Yang laughs, her fingers lacing together over her stomach. She grins like she's privy to a secret and has an itch to reveal it. "But do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I do. I don't like it, but I understand."

"That's because you're a control freak. What -tell me I'm wrong," she dares when she sees the indignity in Pyrrha's weighted glare. "And I'm not saying that's a bad thing. I'm saying that you've learned to trust him with everything else -you let the man tie you up in his basement, for god's sake- so why not let yourself trust him now? Not to mention if things get bad, you have a Storm Elemental for a roommate."

Pyrrha's eyes widen and she nods slowly. There's that, and she was confident Nora could lay her out in a Mistrali minute if she had to. They had long since agreed to as much.

"Plus, we need to assume there's a chance the mark will be permanent. He might end up immune."

"Is that possible?" there's a strange desperation in her tone. "He's only human,"

"Yeah, but my magic is  _amazing_ ." Yang looks so damn smug, her hands easing behind her head as she stretches out her legs and crosses them at the ankle. "So what do you say? It should only be this once, then you can go back to your kinky bondage thing."

Pyrrha might have laughed if it wasn't so accurate. "I'll think it over."

Yang nods, letting the conversation end there. She's content to watch Ruby as she sits under the apple tree in the garden, appearing to play with a wild rabbit that had been drawn in by her magic.

 

Dinner is awkward to say the least. Between the vacancies of Nora and Ren's usual seats and Weiss' almost suffocating presence, conversation is all but impossible. Never mind the number of total strangers in the room. For several minutes they eat quietly, looking at one another, waiting for someone to say something. There's some quiet expectation hanging between all of them for Yang to act as go-between, but she's far too occupied with enjoying her tribute to say much. Under the table Jaune feels Pyrrha carefully hook his ankle with her own, a subtle cue as to her insecurity. He scoots his chair a bit closer, offering a little smile in reassurance. Blake has to remind Weiss not to talk business at the table. When Ruby hiccups, rose petals spring up from around her and scatter, some of them landing in plates and glasses. The young fae shrinks in her chair, red faced and stammering apologies.

Its enough to fragment the heaviness in the air with everyone trying not to laugh. Yang puts an arm around Ruby as she blows a rose petal off the end of her nose. "Don't be embarrassed, sis, at this rate this'll be the closest I get to eating vegetables tonight." Ruby's cheeks only seem to redden further at her sister's encouragement.

"Hey, you  _specifically_ asked for these veggie pot stickers," Jaune gestures with his fork.

Across the table Weiss eyes her bodyguard without turning her head, a smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. "Red suits you, Blake."

Half a dozen petals rest atop her hair, one flitted away by the twitch of one felid ear. "You think so? I'll have to remember that." and for a brief second, their expressions match.

"Red looks great on both of you," Yang adds after swallowing a mouthful. "Reminds me of the Summer Sabbath you invited me to. Speaking of which, when do I get to come to another one?"

Weiss clears her throat, covertly stifling a laugh. "When you can swear to me with a straight face that you won't hit on the high priestess,  _then_ I'll consider inviting you again."

"Hey, in my defense, she was naked."

"We were  _all_ naked." Blake intervenes.

"Would you rather I had hit on your sister?"

One snowy brows lifts, her eyes thinning. "It was a  _sabbath_ , I'd rather you didn't do it at all."

Yang laughs as she reaches for more ribs. "You can't expect me to be surrounded by a bunch of pretty women and not do something about it."

"You're a  _Luck_ Dragon," Weiss reminds her.

"I know, where do you think the phrase 'get lucky' comes from?" Yang waggles her eyebrows and smiles with the bone between her teeth.

"What's a sabbath?" Pyrrha chances. "I don't mean to sound ignorant."

"Ooh, tell her about the orgies,"

"There are no  _orgies_ ." Weiss glares at Yang for a moment, making sure she knows her displeasure, and then addresses Pyrrha, her expression becoming neutral. "We make offerings and commune with the powers that be, honor the ancestors, and on rare occasions we initiate new members into the cabal."

Pyrrha slowly nods, accepting in spite of not fully understanding. The idea of Witches is still relatively new, having never actually met one -not that she was aware of. "Could I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"I hope you don't find it rude," she pauses to find the words, "why is Ren so upset that you're here?"

"Ah." Weiss nods, setting down her utensils and wiping her mouth. "It's nothing between the two of us, personally, it's how our respective peoples have...interacted over the last few centuries. White Witches in particular were once go-betweens for wealthy humans to acquire magical creatures, be it as pets or trophies or...god knows what else. Kirin were especially prized for their horns as medicinal components, but they were mostly kept alive because their auras can maintain the wealth and prosperity of entire kingdoms. It wasn't until three-hundred years ago that a treaty was signed to stop it, but by then it was much too late." Weiss takes a breath, features creased with sympathy. "I didn't mean to ruin the occasion."

"Ren just needs to be allowed to do his own thing." Jaune nods.

"Do you think he would be opposed to me leaving an offering for him?"

Jaune sputters a little, unsure how to answer.

"I'll sit down with him," Yang offers, "see if there's anything that can be done about it. At the very least, you tried."

Weiss stiffens a little. "Schnees don't try, we  _do_ ."

"And you  _do it_ so very well," Yang winks and tilts her glass, as if offering a toast to the Witch who just blushes madly.

" _So_ ," Jaune intercedes, intentionally trying to speak over Yang's bedroom eyes, "who's ready for dessert?"

There's a second flurry of rose petals as Ruby raises one hand, her other occupied with covering up another hiccup.

The remainder of the afternoon goes smoother from there, the lot of them even coming to communal laughter at several points. When all of the food is eaten -Yang unsurprisingly responsible for the most of it- they all move into the living room and continue talking. Although once the now stuffed Luck Dragon finds a spot on the couch she can't resist dozing off. Ruby assures Jaune that's a good sign that she accepted his tribute.

It's after sunset when the gathering draws to a close. Yang hadn't meant to sleep all evening but is quick to pull herself off the couch. As her friends and sister gather at the door to leave, Yang pulls Jaune and Pyrrha aside once more.

"Weiss and I will likely be back in the morning to look at that mark, so you might want to let Ren know." She nods to Jaune who reciprocates.

"What...what should we do?" Pyrrha shifts on her feet, her cheeks a little red.

Yang tries a smile, a gentle one, and puts one large hand on each of their shoulders. "Just take it easy, okay? There's nothing for you guys to be afraid of, you've got a safety net, so  _enjoy it_ . Have a little faith and have fun." and she pulls them up into a steely embrace, lifting both of them off the floor and laughing at their shouts of surprise.

Pyrrha's lingering smile dies as she watches Jaune walk Yang to the door, seeing her out, and when she's out of sight the comforting warmth of her presence goes with her. The house feels quiet and empty, almost stifling. The sound of the door clicking shut is too loud, jarring, and for a moment she and Jaune just look at each other. By the condolent setting of his eyes, he knows she just doesn't feel right.

His only instinct is to reach out, to try. "Would you...do you want to just sit for a while? ...You must be feeling pretty overwhelmed."

"Y-yeah." She hugs herself, fingers curling around her elbows. "We don't usually have people over. Not when...you know."

He smiles with a little nod, starting towards her. Seeing Pyrrha so unsure, so submissive, is only partly cute. It fondly reminds him of the short while after Pyrrha revealed her condition, how shy and borderline ashamed she had been to even talk about it. For him it had been so humbling and made him admire her that much more. But, on the other hand, he didn't like seeing her so worried, looking like she wanted to hide from him. It threatens to break him whenever she won't look him in the eye.

Jaune doesn't say anything as he carefully eases his arms around her, one hooking her waist, the other crossing her front to line his fingers between hers at the crook of her arm. He kisses her temple, his lips lingering there as he takes in her scent. With gentle encouragement he leads her to the couch, pulling down the quilt from the back as he sits down and Pyrrha settles between his thighs. He tucks the blanket over them just as he wraps himself around her.

She shifts a little, easing lower so she can rest her head on his chest and listen to his heart. She's feeling a nagging need to hear it, her instincts starting to prickle at the moon's behest. It's steady, strong, strangely soothing. Pyrrha sighs as his hands smooths over her hair, fingers hooking gently to scratch her scalp, raising goosebumps. After a few passes she relaxes further, both of her hands finding his under the blanket. She's starting to draw him in, feeding on his quiet confidence, her senses fully opening up to him again now that they're alone and she feels safe.

He whispers "I love you" off and on, occasionally mentioning the time just so she's aware. He knows she needs to start mentally preparing herself for the night. When he feels himself drifting towards a nap he fumbles with his watch, setting an alarm. "Want to rest a while?"

"Okay." she sounds like she's already half way there. Pyrrha turns on her stomach, her cheek on his breastbone and one arm hanging with her fingers almost touching the floor. She isn't awake long enough to care that she's sure to leave a drool spot on his shirt. 

Ren -having sensed the White Witch's absence and felt safe enough to come back- will wake them up just before Jaune's alarm chimes at eleven o'clock. They're slow to rise, lingering in their reassuring warmth as long as they can. They kiss lazily, Pyrrha propped on his chest. Oh, to lay like this forever, but Jaune casually alerts her to his need to tap a kidney, forcing her to stand up. Immediately she reacts to his physical absence, chilled, and when he's out of sight she can feel anxiety buzzing up her back through the thin veil of sleep still hanging on her. Ren must have sensed it also as he starts fussing about the kitchen for a teakettle. 

Pyrrha chances to ask about Nora as she sits at the table, only to have the Elemental strut through the back door before Ren can answer. When Jaune returns the four of them will sit for a while, small talk fluttering between them as Ren and Nora pick over some leftovers. And though midnight is drawing closer, Pyrrha feels the most relaxed she has all day; they had fallen back into their routine, everyone that should be here -her pack- is here, and this house is home again. 

There's no awkward hesitation or reservation when she rises from her seat at half passed the hour, taking Jaune's hand wordlessly but with a glance that requests he follow. The pair disappear into the basement stairwell, arm in arm. Pyrrha exhales as they step through the vault door, sounding strangely relieved. She can feel the moon's pull, now more insistent, but she's safe here. Everyone is safe while she's in here. Taking casual strides she steps into the cage, starting to separate the buttons of her shirt. Jaune has the ring of keys in one hand and starts gathering padlocks into the other, the open loops of the locks hanging on his fingers. He'll leave some of them outside the cage, the ones meant to go on the door.

The locks rattle to the floor as Jaune kneels down. "Can I help with that?"

Pyrrha looks at him, a smirk toying at the corner of her mouth as she slips out of her shirt. "I think I can take my clothes off by myself."

"But why would you want to?"

She actually laughs, her hands pausing at the button of her khaki shorts. "A fair question."

"Though, if it would make you uncomfortable-"

"I didn't say that." She wouldn't dare say that, not tonight. In fact there is a part of her that is suddenly wildly hungry for him. As she tests her sharpening teeth with her tongue she can feel that hunger pitching. Without realizing it she watches him, watches his hands unwinding a stretch of chains. She wants his hands on her just as badly as she wants the taste of him on her tongue.

"Well...to be fair, you haven't had to."

She winces, her brow knitting. He's right. She had been so physically distant from him, they hadn't even made love since the last full moon. "I'm sorry." she blurts out.

"Don't apologize, I understand." Jaune stands up, dragging a portion of the chain with him to drop at his feet once he's near her. "And I know the moon makes it hard for you to think straight, so I didn't want to assume,"

"Thank you." She tries to smile, half succeeding. "But...you can, if you want."

"Only if you're sure."

"I am."

"Okay." He takes a half step closer, their noses almost touching, and he meets her eyes while his hands cover hers for a moment. He kisses the tip of her nose as his fingers work the closure of her shorts apart, then her lips. His palms smooth over her hips as she steps out of them, his thumbs catching the waist of the snug boy shorts. The kiss deepens as he starts to pull them down, his tongue grazing her fangs.

Pyrrha pulls back, not pushing him away but breaking the kiss. "We are  _not_ making out in here."

"I know," he assures her with a chuckle. "I'm just..."

"Just what?"

Jaune tucks his chin, holding her about the waist as she shakes the boy shorts from her foot. "Just want you to know...I'm okay with this. That I'm not afraid."

She swallows, recoiling slightly. Thinking to distract herself, maybe find a way to change the subject, she works her way out of her bra, letting it hit the floor with the rest of her clothes. But nothing comes, no thoughts or words to offer up.

Jaune's hands cup her face and her eyes snap back to him. "We'll be all right."

For a moment she says nothing, staring at him until the itching in her skin pulls her back to the present. "We don't have much time." she sputters, pulling free and stepping away from him. Jaune stabilizes himself with a deep breath, allowing him to focus enough to begin their strange ritual. He works the restraints together with an uncommon quickness, having a few spare minutes for a few parting caresses and a kiss to her forehead. He only dwells on the lupine glint in her eyes for a moment before gathering her clothes and going to lock the cage door. The change comes over her as it always does and he waits without watching, then he leaves after promising to be here when the sun rises.

Tonight will feel like the longest. Somehow Jaune is hyper aware of the ticking seconds that crawl by. He can't find enough things to occupy himself, nothing to drown out the quiet nagging in the back of his head that he can't name. He puts on a load of laundry, a strange midnight activity, but it's enough to eat an hour of his time and make him feel accomplished. It'll be nice to have fresh sheets on the bed come sunrise. However it still leaves him idle until it needs to be folded, so he tries to busy himself with something else. A random book off the shelf proves next to useless. After more than another hour of fussing about he settles on the sofa, thinking if he could just resume the ever so comfy position he had before he would maybe be able to throw away the night to a nap. But nothing is ever as welcoming without Pyrrha; he could probably sleep on a bed of nails if he knew she was just within reach.

In the end he pacifies himself on late night television, but it does nothing to stop him from constantly checking his watch.

Jaune practically jumps off the couch when he notices the sky becoming brighter with the coming dawn. He hurries upstairs to make the customary preparations. Coming back into the living room he navigates the stairs while simultaneously scribbling away on a small sheet of paper, a note he'll press into the jamb of the front door for Weiss and Yang for when they arrive. Simple and to the point:  _spare key under the mat, make yourselves at home and please ignore the noise._ Then it's back down to the basement.

The rest of the morning goes off without a hitch for the most part. The only thing out of place is Pyrrha's silence, her emotional distance from everyone, not just Jaune. But it isn't complete. Jaune can sense the way she looks at him when she thinks he can't see it, she's hungry as always. He catches longing glances that he knows are centered on his throat, the gentle flare of her nostrils when she's close enough to take him in. And her hands are fussing together in front of her, trying to busy themselves instead of reaching out for him. Jaune stays close but doesn't touch, not just yet, not until she lets him know she's ready. A signal that comes when they sit down for breakfast and her ankle crosses his beneath the table. He leans into her, their shoulders touching.

"It's all right." he whispers, kissing to her cheek. "You control the pace today. I trust you."

Pyrrha swallows and takes a breath, anything to ease the feverish pounding of her heart. She isn't sure she could stand to look him in the eyes yet, the prospect of fucking him on the table just feels too real to chance. God, has it ever been this bad?

But she'll find no comfort when they finally steal themselves away to the bedroom, the door shutting and forcing them to face each other without any further distraction. Her hands still fumble together as she tries to meet his gentle gaze.

"What can I do?" he offers. "How can I make this easier?"

To be honest, she doesn't know if there's anything to be done. Something like this shouldn't  _be easy._

"Couldn't you just...bite me again? Or," he goes down the list in his head, the one he goes over a hundred times during every full moon out of sheer habit. "...what do you need?"

"I need...to stop being so scared. Because I am. I'm terrified." a sheepish laugh rattles out of her, though there isn't a hint of amusement in it or her posture. Every last instinct that isn't howling with desire is screaming in warning. They had spent nearly three years putting all these safeguards in place, and now she's supposed to willingly ignore all of that. How else is she supposed to feel?

Jaune tries to embrace her, quietly surprised when she allows him, even reciprocating with a tighter grip, her claws almost tearing his shirt as her fingers hook into it. He smooths one hand up and down the length of her spine, hoping to calm her. He can feel the heavy throb of her heart against his chest, a sample of the need he knows is starting to amplify inside of her. If they didn't do something soon, she might not have the luxury of a choice in the matter.

"Do you want to be restrained? Would that help?"

Pyrrha nuzzles his shoulder. For a moment she opens her mouth, taking a bit of skin between her lips, her teeth. The taste of him sends a static charge across her skin, all the small hairs standing up. She exhales, not meaning for her breath to emerge as a heated purr.

"Just...put the collar on me." she forces herself to say. "Please." Maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to sell the illusion of safety.

"Okay."

Jaune doesn't fill her request immediately, he wants to undress her first. "So," He starts by steadily pushing her shirt up, his palms easing over the tight muscles of her stomach, "tell me,"

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, fangs peeking. "Hm?"

"What's something you've always wanted me to do to you?" he pulls the garment over her head.

Pyrrha shudders when his arms cinch around her and pull her close almost too suddenly for her to stand, and for a moment she sputters, staring back at him with wide eyes. "W-what?"

"Surely there's something that I couldn't give you." Jaune has a feeling what it would be, the almost mischievous tilt to the corner of his mouth makes that evident. "I've always wanted to have your hands on me, to feel your claws on my skin. I think I'd like it if you pulled my hair, too."

Her knees almost buckle, a jolt of lust shooting through her gut and a flash of heated blood rushing into her face. She can feel her own pulse hard in her jaw, around her fangs. The mental image flashes behind closed eyelids; gently tanned skin striped red and creased with her her pulling grip.

"I remember when you put a hickey on my throat, do you?"

"Y-yes," she pants into his chest, nodding though the memory is vague.

His hands meet over her shoulder blades, then press down until both palms cup her plump backside. "I'd love for you to do it again, but I want to feel your fangs this time."

Another shot of stabbing heat, a choking groan. "Jaune,"  _Does he really know what he's asking for?!_

"Now tell me what you want."

" _Kiss me_ ," and she doesn't wait. She cups the back of his neck with both hands, fingers pushing into his hair as she forces his head down so their lips can crash together. And just like that, the hunger snatches her control away, quiets the fear to a whimper. A little sound that's drowned out by her chesty growl as she opens her mouth to his and thrusts her tongue past his lips. Jaune bends at the waist, allowing him to reach for and lift one of her legs, letting her knee bend over his hip. She reads his intent and grips tighter to his neck, lifting herself up and putting her other leg around him. He laughs.

Jaune navigates his way to the bed, flushed and panting as they separate when he sets her down on the edge of the mattress. She doesn't give him much time to breathe, pulling him back to her as he kneels on the floor between her legs. Her hips buck against his stomach, her hands starting to paw and grip at the collar of his shirt. She can't be bothered to wait for him to pull it off. Her fingers hook and jerk at the fabric, ripping it from collar to hem in one powerful  _pull_ . He's unfazed, pulling the tatters of the garment away from his body without breaking contact with her lips.

"So, just kiss you?" he manages between hungry kisses and growls.

" _All over_ ," she elaborates roughly. She watches the slow wince that pulls his features as she rakes his shoulders, an electric charge going through her own body at the give of his soft flesh beneath her claws. The pads of her fingers pass over the mark on his back, Yang's mark, and she feels a bite of hot static.

"I knew it." he hums against her jaw, finally managing to pull free of her lips. He nudges her chin up with a push of his head, exposing her throat. He takes a page from her book, following his instincts as he opens his mouth and presses his teeth just so around her windpipe in a surge of movement that he couples with a punctuated growl of his own. She actually shouts his name, her entire body shaking around him.

"Collar, g-get the collar," she has to force it, her awareness almost too hot and threadbare.

Jaune stops, pulling back and grinning smugly at the bright red blossom he left on her skin. "Alright." When he stands up and steps away, Pyrrha feels the vacancy. She hates it.

He picks up the collar from the nightstand, letting it rest in one hand while he leans over the head of the bed and searches beneath the pillow for the chain. He unwinds it from the headboard and brings it with him. He loves the excited curiosity in her eyes as she watches him kneel in front of her again. Just as carefully as always he slips the leather around her neck and snaps it closed, pulling the ring around to the front and then attaching the lead.

"What's that for?" she asks, breathless but interested.

"Just a little fantasy." he smirks back, letting the chain lay along the length of her chest, between her breasts. The cold metal gives her a little shock, bringing her wild senses back to center for the moment. "If you're uncomfortable, just tell me."

"I will." she nods one. "Now come here."

Jaune is quick to return to his work, his hands on her hips, pulling them against him as his mouth opens to her collarbone. He nips at the hard rise of bone, licking the little redness before easing lower, kissing around the chrome shimmer of the chain to her breasts. His skin is livid at the roughness of her fingers carding through his hair, encouraging him lower, the edges of her claws burning his scalp. His hands ease op her sides to palm her breasts, kneading steadily as he moves to kiss her stomach. With a push her body flattens against the bed, a little burst of laughter emerging before Pyrrha props herself up on her elbows. Her smile dies when her mind accepts that he's pulling her shorts down, looking back at her and licking his lips.

"Jaune," she exhales.

"What?" One blond brow lifts. He chuckles with a little shake of his head, manipulating her legs to pull her shorts all the way off before tossing them aside. "I love going down on you."

Pyrrha covers her mouth reflexively, trying to stifle a choking groan. She rises to her palms, one hand threading into his hair again.

"Especially now," he kisses the inside of her bare thigh, watching it quiver. "You're more sensitive to me than ever, aren't you?"

Of course she is, and it's not just the moon. She knows what's coming, she knows how to all but guarantee his getting infected. The one thing they had yet to do as lovers is a concept that both thrills and terrifies her.

"I've wanted to do this for some time, actually. Another little fantasy." he kisses the other thigh, nipping with his teeth. "Unless you don't want me to,"

All she can do is shake her head, gripping his hair with a tug. And all he can do is just smile a little wider before tucking his chin. He starts with a kiss, his lips pressing passed her folds to dip into the wet heat within. Then he adds his tongue, savoring the taste of her before working up to a frantic pace. She came quickly, her body bowing in the middle with a muffled, ecstatic cry, but he doesn't stop. He has to feel those muscles clench around his tongue again. When it happens, he grunts through the burning pinch in his scalp.

Her claws broke the skin.

Jaune grants her aching core one last kiss before wiping his mouth on his arm and standing up. He looks down at Pyrrha as he shimmies out of his pants, feeling himself shiver at the ravenous glint in her eyes. Satisfaction rides through him as well, making him smirk in acknowledgment of the redness flushing her skin and the fine sheen of sweat that catches the light.

"Let me get a condom,"

"No."

Jaune freezes mid stride, a little bit of color fleeing from his face.

"It's...it's fine. We don't have to." she forces herself to say through a haze of hungry lust.

"B-but, Pyrrha, you said-,"

She swallows. "I know. I understand if it's not what you want."

"No, it's just..I never knew how to ask. It never felt like the right time."

It hadn't just been for Jaune's safety that they used protection, or an unwillingness to have children just yet as conception between a human male and an Alpha female is all but unheard of -most circles are convinced it isn't possible. Consummation of unprotected sex would result in a chemical change in both partners, effectively binding them to each other into what has always been supposed as a permanent relationship. Just as it is with wolves in the wild, they would be mates for life.

Pyrrha had never brought it up more than once, just to make sure he understood the gravity of it. She didn't want to trap him like that, she always wanted him to be able to chose to leave.

"I mean, I still want to give you a proper wedding, but...I want this too."

But now...he was basically asking for it, and she can't help but look up at him with a staggering mixture of disbelief and...hope? Pyrrha moves to her knees, upright, her hands splaying across his chest, his heartbeat working feverishly underneath. She searches for something to say just as she searches for something disingenuous in his face, and in both endeavors finds nothing.

_He's serious..._

Pyrrha yokes his neck with her arms again, pulling him down, capturing his lips with hers as they tumble to the mattress.

Jaune pushes between her legs, their hips lining up, the heated shaft of his bare erection furrowing against her aching core. He loves the whimpering gasp that breaks free at the intimate contact, loves the feel of her shivering and her limbs wrapping around him as he rolls his hips. One hand blindly searches for the end of the chain, wrapping the links around his hand and pulling it just taught enough to make her aware of it. "Just in case you get too rough," he whispers.

The leather strains against her neck and pulls another choking sob from her. One hand hooks into his back, claws threatening to tear into him, and the other takes up a handful of his hair, need spiking hotly between her legs when he groans into her open mouth. She catches his bottom lip between her teeth when she feels the distinct pressure of the head of his cock at her entrance.

" _Please_ ," she gasps.

Jaune hilts into her with one steady thrust and stills, trying to stabilize himself amid her fluttering muscles threatening to break him on the first stroke. The second is staggering, uneven, but doesn't fail to garner an enthused reaction, one set of her claws raking his backside raw. He quietly tenses through the delicious pain that crackles up his spine, his forehead pressing to hers. The third scatters all of his thoughts like broken glass, their instincts blurring together like their bodies.

Somehow Pyrrha feels safe, as secure as ever surrounded by him instead of leather and metal clasps. His grip on the chain feeds her subconscious desire for his controlling hand, soothing the quiet doubts that linger at the back of her mind. The desperate, skin deep struggle to keep a hold of herself she had been warring with for the last month is replaced by the lusty desire to hold onto to him. She's beginning to smell the copper hints of his blood in the air mixed with the heady scent of sex as she mouths his throat. She wants to taste it.

_I'm going to bite him again, I know it. He knows it too. And neither of us care._

Jaune wants to take it slow, he wants it to last and to memorize the feeling of her surrounding him without boundaries, but he just can't. It's too much, and his senses are clawing to devour her. He starts rutting her, initially worried with the force he's putting to her until she holds him by the nape of the neck, her body pushing up to meet it. Pyrrha bucks into his fervent thrusts, his free hand catching her hips as he leans back, pulling her up onto his thighs. He groans a breathy expletive against her shoulder, followed by her name, and then shudders beneath her.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, "I'm sorry, I - _Pyrrha_ ,"

She hasn't stopped, her hips still churn wildly against his. She's counting on his second wind to let her have him again. Once he's certain he can, Jaune gladly offers himself up to her hunger one more time. 

The groan that rips out of her when he pushes her out of his lap is crushing, it rubs his awareness raw as the act goes against everything they want. Chanting whispers assures Pyrrha it's only for a moment, long enough for him to stand up and turn her back to him. He guides himself to her entrance again, unconsciously marveling at the traces of his climax around the base of his cock before pushing into her again. Hot sparks of pleasure crackle through him as he slides home, smothered by her warmth. Jaune peppers her neck and shoulders with kisses backed with the edges of his teeth. One hand still holds the lead as it eases around the front, the chain wrapped about his knuckles so his fingers can curl around her breast. His free hand smooths over her stomach and tucks between her legs.

Every impact against her backside feels like a bolt of lightning, a riot of light and heat that shatters every thought that doesn't revolve around  _him_ and  _them_ and the liquid heat that eases from her core. Every time his fingers make a complete circle around her throbbing clit it inches her closer to release -and it was going to be  _so good_ . Pyrrha's hands grip the tops of his thighs, red welts forming under the pressure of her fingers. Every instinct is screaming for her to follow through, to rip him apart just to  _feel it_ , to tear out his throat just to  _feel it_ -some of the old horror stories surrounding werewolves are true, namely the one about them being man eaters. There is a natural desire in her to smell and feel and taste his blood, to take it. But then she hears her name exalting from his lips, feels his heart pounding in time with her own, and all she wants is his love. She wants him as her mate.

Jaune bites down on her shoulder as she rakes his thighs, his thrusts quickening at the telling clench in his loins. Her high pitched whimpers echo in his soul. Her head falls back against his shoulder, turning to put her mouth to his neck just below his ear. Just as the slick grip of her core clenches around him her mouth opens wide and her body tenses, her jaws closing on him. He never expected for a second that the white hot spike of pain would make him come. His hips pitch into hers, his arms grip her as tight to him as possible and his hand pulls the lead out of reflex. The snap of metal links is the only thing that stops Pyrrha at a single bite.

They collapse to the bed, spent, Jaune still framing her body with his. He doesn't acknowledge the burning pain in his neck or his thighs or his back, all he cares about is her. Her scent, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, her pulse all fill his senses like his next breath fills his chest. Jaune can feel her all over him, a thin layer across his entire body like warm oil. "I love you," he chants with every exhale, hoarse.

Though her entire body pulses Pyrrha can already feel sleep trying to pull her under. Her tongue pulls across her teeth, jarring her senses with the taste of copper. It warms her, soothes something in the pit of her stomach and helps her settle even further. She tenses when he withdraws, a little whimper escaping. Jaune unclasps the collar and pulls it away, giving it little more consideration than it takes for him to let it fall to the floor. He cleans himself up with the remains of his discarded shirt before trying to put her to bed, rolling her on her back and hooking her knees over his arm. He situates her so she can lay her head on the pillows, pulling the blankets down from underneath her and then draping them up to her shoulders. He then leans over her, pushing a few sweat curled strands of hair from her face.

"I'm going to go see if Yang is here yet." he whispers, knowing she could already be asleep. She certainly looked asleep. "I'll be back." and he kisses her cheek, receiving a little grunt in response.

 

Weiss and Yang are lounging on the sofa when Jaune emerges from the bedroom in shorts and a fresh t-shirt, the white cotton collar already blushing with a few blossoms of blood from the small wound in his neck. By the time he reaches the bottom of the stairs Yang is up with open arms ready to greet him.

"I'll be gentle," she promises with a sly chuckle. "Damn, she got you  _good_ too!"

"Keep your voice down," he rasps as she squeezes him.

"I know she's sleeping, but after that you're going to need a wrecking ball just to get her to roll over. Now come here and let me have a look at you. How you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." tired, overstimulated, but okay. "Not much pain, if that's what you're wondering."

Now Weiss stands up from the sofa and eases over to them, remaining a step back to look him over as well. He tries not to feel embarrassment over how Yang keeps snickering at the bright red marks up and down his back.

"Yeah, they're already starting to pull back together, see?" Yang has his shirt bunched up around his neck

"Should they be doing that?" Weiss asks, her voice keen with interest.

"It was like this when I healed him in the first place, yeah, but I haven't seen my mark work this fast on injuries before. Let me see,"

Goosebumps roll across his skin at her heated palm's pressure, something like electricity buzzing between them under her touch at his shoulder.

"What the...the hell is this?"

"The hell is what?" he frets. He feels puffs of warm breath against his back as Yang leans in closer. His skin pulls as her big hand rubs over the warm spot where the mark rests.

"Look at this, Weiss," and Yang takes a step back, giving Weiss the room to approach.

"...What's the problem? Isn't it supposed to be glowing like that?"

"Sure, it means it's working, but nothing happens to it when I touch it." Yang puts her fists on her hips, indignant. "Almost like it isn't even  _mine_ . Which is horse shit, by the way."

"Stop whining." Weiss squints, looking over the emblem on his skin in search of any visible anomalies. She is quite familiar with Yang's seal -a stylized insignia of a heart engulfed in flames- so if something was wrong she would know, but finds nothing out of order save for the depth of the mark in his skin. Normally a Dragon's blessings sits on the surface, like the leavings of a rubber stamp, but this mark is now like a tattoo and it hadn't been this way yesterday. Weiss chances to touch it, feeling Yang's magic coursing beneath the pad of her finger, the energy making the small hairs on her neck stand up. "It's become a ward."

"The hell you say," Yang huffs. "I don't even know  _how_ to weave wards."

"It is what it is, Yang."

"...An explanation please?" Jaune speaks up.

"Well, wards are protective seals, much like Yang's blessing." Weiss explains, "but they are rather intricate and usually require an extensive ritual to put in place,"

"Shtupping is extensive." Yang grins.

Weiss rolls her eyes, not that the Luck Dragon is wrong. "But somehow Yang's favor has...transmuted into a ward. The difference being that a ward is much more permanent than a lucky charm."

"Luck isn't meant to be permanent."

"How did I manage that?"

"I don't know," Weiss steps back, one finger hooking her chin, her pale brow knit in contemplation, "but I would  _love_ to find out."

Somehow Jaune doesn't like the way his boss said that. She sounds far too interested. He pulls his shirt back down and turns to face them. "So...what does this all mean?"

"As crazy as it sounds, I think you're immune." Yang inches her shoulders, her head tilting briefly. "Like hitting the magic lottery."

For a moment he just stares, his eyes moving between Yang and Weiss.

"I mean, you still need to keep up with your other precautions -it won't stitch you back together if you get ripped to ribbons, but you shouldn't have to worry about contracting her condition."

"...You're serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"So...what do I tell her?"

"I don't know," Yang shakes her head, smiling, "happy Solstice? Although if you tell her that be sure to let her know it's from me, okay? Don't take credit for my awesome gift giving."

"You didn't give him a ward, Yang, you just said-"

Yang buzzes her lips, interrupting with a wayward swat of her hand, "Details, details. Don't I have to get you back to the shark-pool soon?"

"Actually, yes," Weiss pulls up her sleeve to check her watch. "Security will have a conniption if I don't check in and there's next to no cell service out here. We should go."

Jaune will see them to the door, offering numerous words of thanks. Yang demands he let her know if anything comes up and he readily agrees, biting back a curse when she hugs him too tight, pinching the remains of the marks on his back.

The door clicks shut and he loiters for a moment, listening as Yang's truck roars to life and rumbles down the gravel road towards the highway. With a relieved exhale he turns on his heels and shuffles for the stairs, finally allowed to let his fatigue show. He wonders if he looks as tired as he feels.

Jaune strips when he's back in the bedroom, quietly moving to the bed and kicking off his shorts before easing beneath the covers. Just as he settles Pyrrha turns towards him, muttering sleepily as she tucks into his chest, her head resting on his arm bent beneath him. He feels the warm press of her lips against his collar bone as his arm drapes over her. He reciprocates with a kiss to the top of her head, unconsciously stroking small circles with the pad of his finger against her shoulder blade.

_Tonight._ _I'll tell her tonight._ And he smiles against her scalp before sleep takes him.

 

 

Author's Note: Well, there you have it. A oneshot that morphed into three-chapter mini-fic like a hydra. I may revisit this AU with a full length feature -at least that's what my muse is telling me with all the plot bunnies I've been getting. But not until I've finished with Embers of Autumn, which will have eventual Arkos as well if anyone is interested. Hope everyone enjoyed, and if not, well, you know how it is.

 


End file.
